


Music is my first love

by kellsbells



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, I'm that narcissistic, University AU, apparently, yeah it's set at my uni
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-09-26 02:12:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9857384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellsbells/pseuds/kellsbells
Summary: Myka Bering is a new lecturer at Salford University. She meets Helena Wells and Sam Martino on the same night. Things get a bit complicated. University lecturers AU, with a hint of music.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, here is a new thing while I try to get my head back in the game for my Scandalish AU. I hope you all enjoy. :)

Her elbow was on the desk, her face cupped in her left hand, and with her right hand she was scribbling nonsense on a page. Her hair was tucked behind her ear as she concentrated, glaring at the page as if it offended her.

 

“What a bunch of complete and utter bollocks. I used to be good at this, didn’t I?” she asked herself quietly, and then she let out a gusty breath of pure frustration.

 

“Hey,” came a quiet voice from the doorway. Helena looked up, and there she was. Myka Bering, the youngest lecturer at Salford University, and Helena’s favourite colleague, leaning against the doorjamb with a fond smile on her face. Helena’s face broke out into an answering smile immediately.

 

“Myka. What can I do for you?” She leaned back in her chair, twirling a little to face the tall American.

 

“Nothing, really. I just came to say hi. It sounds like maybe you need some help - or maybe just some tea?” Myka said, producing a disposable drinks carrier from the cafeteria with two cups in it from behind her back.

 

“Myka, you’re a lifesaver.” Helena held out her hand, not even bothering to disguise her eagerness. It had been a long day, and a chat with Myka over a decent brew was exactly what she needed.

 

Myka handed over the tea and sat in her customary place, the high backed leather chair that usually had a student crying or cowering in it as Helena tried to either console or intimidate them, depending on their particular attitude. Helena had to admit that she preferred it when the chair was inhabited by Myka. The long-limbed American was not only very pleasant to look at, but she was a true friend – even if Helena’s feelings about her extended to the more-than-friendly, a fact which she wasn’t entirely able to ignore, try as she might.

 

“So, what is it that’s got you sighing like a teenage girl who just heard that Zayn left One Direction?” Myka teased, eyes twinkling.

 

Helena took a sip of her tea. It was, as always, perfect. Myka Bering was nothing if not meticulous, and she had remembered how Helena liked her tea from day one. It was one of the many things that Helena loved – no, liked about Myka. Because she didn’t _love_ Myka. She loved Giselle, and Myka was her friend.

 

“I have been trying, without much success, to engage the creative part of my brain. I am afraid it is hopelessly atrophied after so many years dealing with young adults and their love for horrifically badly written pop songs. Do you know, one of the little buggers actually asked me if we could study – _study_ the works of Girls Aloud. Girls A-bloody-loud, for Christ’s sake! All of their songs have been written by other people, they were entirely manufactured for a television show, and they come in here, these bloody teenagers, and ask if we can _study_ them? As if they’ve ever produced anything of note!” She sputtered in indignation, taking another sip of tea to calm herself. Myka laughed, taking a sip of her coffee, wincing a little at the taste.

 

“You know, we have this same discussion once a week at least – only the name of the band, or the artist, varies. So do you want to tell me what’s really bothering you?” Myka smiled at her gently. She knew Helena well, after all their time working together.

 

Helena smiled back. Myka really was a true friend.

 

“I just – I used to be able to write, to get out what I was feeling. I made quite a living from it, at one point,” she smiled ruefully. “But now…”

 

Myka tilted her head sympathetically.

 

“You say you made a living from it, but since you won’t tell me what you wrote, or who you worked with – how can I possibly make any sort of judgement on that?” She asked, gently chiding, but with a smile to soften it. “I bet you could get some of your feelings out on paper if you weren’t so damn tired, Helena.”

 

Helena smiled at Myka for a moment, and then looked away, frowning thoughtfully as she examined her nails.

 

“I know, I just – I have been so busy keeping things running here, and with Giselle being away, Christina needs me too.”

 

“Why don’t you scale things back here, then, for a while? I’m sure Leena wouldn’t mind taking over some of the administrative responsibilities for you. And then you could be at home more.”

 

Helena sighed.

 

“I wish it were that easy,” she said, running her hand through her hair. “Leena is a wonderful administrator, but I can’t ask her to take on all my duties, it’s not fair. That’s what I get paid for, after all.” Helena’s title was Reader in Music, but in practice that meant she was the course dean and all round counsellor and head honcho.

 

“Leena is always offering, Helena. And you need some rest. Look at you! You’re falling asleep at your desk at 3 o clock on a Monday. What are you going to be like by Friday?”

 

“I know, I know. But I can’t just abandon my responsibilities, Myka. I do appreciate it that you care so much, though.” Helena gave her a wide smile, and Myka returned it, and then changed the subject.

 

“You know, you’d think that in a supposedly civilised country, they could produce a decent cup of coffee! The damn cafeteria even has a real machine, but what comes out of it really doesn’t fall under the description of coffee.” Myka shook her head in mock outrage. Helena laughed.

 

“I suspect that if I was living in your fair country, my dear Myka, I would have all the same complaints, but about tea. Apparently one can only truly appreciate a hot beverage if it’s made in one’s own country.” She smiled again, sipping her perfect cup of tea and raising it to Myka in a mock toast.

 

Myka shook her head.

 

“Always with the mockery, Dr Wells.”

 

Myka returned to the cafeteria after her chat with Helena, grabbing another atrocious coffee and wondering what to do with herself now she’d finished her lectures for the day. She didn’t really want to go back to her empty flat, but there wasn’t really anything else for her to do here. She was caught up on work. And the only person she really wanted to spend time with was the woman she’d just left, the woman who was practically married to Giselle Williams. Giselle was a beautiful and accomplished fashion journalist who, if Myka was being brutally honest, she absolutely detested. Giselle was smart and sexy – on the surface, she was perfect for Helena. Other than the fact that Myka, and pretty much everyone else, was fairly sure that she was only with Helena because Helena was well-off and happy to keep her in the manner to which she apparently wanted to become accustomed. Take this trip. She was in Milan at some charity fashion event – a trip that Helena was funding, of course – and in the meantime Helena was struggling to look after her daughter and keep the popular music course running. The paperwork alone was crippling. Helena refused to have a nanny, insisting that Christina had two parents who were capable of looking after her without resorting to a nanny, of all things. Her nose wrinkled with distaste when she said the word “Nanny”. Myka thought it was cute as hell. But once Helena had given that little speech at a party when Giselle was in the vicinity, and Myka distinctly saw _Giselle’s_ nose wrinkle in distaste when Helena had referred to her as Christina’s parent. That was when Myka’s mild dislike of the woman had slipped over into hatred.

 

Myka wandered through the Adelphi building, not entirely sure where she was going, but her feet took her unerringly to the music practice rooms on the ground floor. She heard the sound of Pete’s sax from the furthest room. He always practiced after his session musicianship group on Mondays. She knocked the door and stuck her head in to make sure it really was Pete and not one of his students.

 

“Myka! Mykissimo! I missed ya babe. How are you?” Pete grabbed her up in a hug, slightly encumbered by the sax hanging from the strap around his neck.

 

“Hey Pete. How are things?” She smiled at him. Pete always made her feel better.

 

“Ooh, that’s not a good smile, is it? What’s going on, Mykes?” He gave her an almost comical look of concern.

 

“Nothing, really,” she sighed. “Just thinking.”

 

“About Sam?”

 

“No, about Helena actually. Giselle is away again and you should see her, Pete. She’s so exhausted. And that woman is just out gallivanting, spending Helena’s money while Helena is working herself into the ground. It’s so unfair.”

 

Pete frowned.

 

“I probably shouldn’t say this, but I really hate that woman,” he said, fiddling with the strap around his neck, swinging his sax back and forth.

 

Myka sat down on the chair next to the piano with a sigh.

 

“You’re not the only one. I hate watching this – her, using Helena, and Helena half-killing herself to make sure Christina is happy and then working her ass off here to make sure things run okay.”

 

Pete patted her shoulder sympathetically.

 

“You wanna go get an early dinner?”

 

“Sure, that sounds great. Where do you want to go?” Myka asked, relieved that he’d suggested it. She needed the company.

 

“Ooh! Now, that’s gonna take some serious thought…” Pete took off the mouthpiece and put his sax in its case, grabbing his other case - he played alto and tenor sax. (Courtney Pine was his idol. He’d once spent an hour – a full hour – explaining the concept of circular breathing to Myka. Myka had tried telling him that she was well aware of the technique, but she gave up explaining after seeing how enthusiastic he was. One of his best moments in life was hearing Courtney Pine performing live – the man played his sax for 20 minutes without stopping to take a single breath, which Myka had to admit was pretty awesome. She was pretty sure that Pete himself must have been using circular breathing to talk for so long that day. Had he stopped for a moment, she could have informed him that the official world record for the longest note held by a wind musician using circular breathing was 47 minutes and 6 seconds. Sometimes having an eidetic memory was useful. But having a motor mouth friend who wouldn’t let you get a word in edgeways was less so.)

 

“We could go to Red’s for barbecue, but maybe we should go to the buffet again – you know I love that place!” Myka chuckled as he went off on a rant about how every restaurant should be like the world buffet, because sometimes you wanted a hot dog along with your sushi. Myka hated the damn place, but it was better than spending the night alone, again. She followed an animated Pete as he chattered on about food and smiled to herself.

 

“What would I do without you, Pete Lattimer?”

 

He grinned and took her arm chivalrously.

 

Thursday nights were a bit of an occasion for the faculty of the popular music department. Claudia Donovan was a former student and current instructor for the Introduction to Music Technology Course. The story that Myka had been told was that, after several months of pestering, Claudia had persuaded Helena to join her band, The Caretakers, and thus a legendary partnership was born. The other members of the band were wonderful musicians, but the arrangements were Claudia and Helena’s department. Steve Jinks was an instructor for drummers on several different courses in the media department, and he played percussion for The Caretakers. Pete played sax and Leena was their lead singer. A tall, statuesque blonde from the dance faculty called Amanda Martin was their bassist. Myka had initially been a bit reluctant to go to the gigs but after the first one she was hooked. She had only missed a few gigs since she’d joined the staff here. She always tried to make a bit of an effort, dressing up a little more than usual. Tonight she was in tight jeans and a leather jacket. She knew Helena liked that outfit – she had caught her staring on more than one occasion when she wore it. Myka internally admonished herself, every Thursday, for thinking about Helena that way. She wasn’t dressing up for Helena, she told herself. She just wanted to look good, that was all. She checked her hair which was wild, as usual, but just the right side of wild to look good, she decided. She sighed and silently berated herself again as she did every week. Helena was taken, Helena was her friend. But she still dressed up, every damn week.

 

She made her way into the crowded student’s union and ordered two pints of bitter to save her an extra trip to the bar later. It had never been her habit to drink beer in the States, but there was something about the bitter they sold here – it was so mellow and went down so easily. She took her customary table near the stage, staring a little at the empty chair. She and Sam used to sit here every week, drinking bitter, laughing, cheering, and then they’d go home and have crazy drunk sex.  She grimaced and drank half of her first pint in one swallow.

 

“Miss Bering? Sorry to bother you.”

 

It was Jeff Weaver, one of her students. Lead guitarist, with all that went with that. He thought he was God’s gift to women and he was an entitled little shit too.

 

“Jeff, hi,” she said, without any enthusiasm.

 

“Can I sit?” he asked, sitting before she had a chance to say anything in reply. She gritted her teeth.

 

“What can I do for you, Mr Weaver?” she asked, trying to put things back on a more professional footing. That was the trouble with the gigs being in the student’s union bar; they made a lot of money for the department, but some students had a problem remembering that the boundaries between lecturers and students still existed, especially when alcohol was involved. This wasn’t the first time Jeff had invaded her personal space.

 

He took her response as encouragement and leaned forward, a smirk on his handsome but extremely annoying face.

 

“Look, Myka. I know you’re a lecturer, and I’m a student, but I know there’s something between us. I can tell you’re attracted to me. We just have to keep things on the down low, like you Americans say, right?” He winked in a cocky manner and put his hand on her knee. Myka froze.

 

“Mr Weaver, I strongly suggest that you remove your hand if you wish to remain in this program.” The crisp English accent came from behind Myka. She breathed a sigh of relief. Thank Christ for Helena.

 

Jeff stared at Helena in horror and removed his hand as if he’d been burned.

 

“I would also suggest that you absent yourself from this particular event, because if I see your face again tonight, I will not be held responsible for my actions. Do I make myself clear?” The boy paled and disappeared faster than Myka would have believed possible. Helena sat down in the chair he’d just vacated and looked at Myka in concern. The look on her face just about stopped Myka’s heart. It was so…tender.

 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

 

Myka smiled weakly.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine, Helena. Thanks for the rescue. I couldn’t think of anything to do that didn’t involve violence. Although it seems like you couldn’t either.”

 

Helena grinned in a rather feral manner.

 

“I very nearly kicked him in the bollocks straight away, Myka. It’s only because of my position that I held myself back at all. Little shit. Who the hell does he think he is? I’m so sorry, darling.” She took Myka’s hand. Myka smiled at her. She would never quite get used to the way Helena touched her so casually, seemingly ignorant of what it did to her. She was blushing furiously but Helena never seemed to notice.

 

“On with the show, then, I guess?” Myka said brightly, to cover the blush that was spreading down her chest – the chest that, she suddenly noticed, Helena was examining with great interest. Helena’s head snapped up.

 

“Um…yes, sorry, of course. On with the show!” Helena shot her an abashed grin and ran off with a little more vim and vigour than she’d arrived with. Myka smiled to herself and sat back to watch the gig.

 

The band were incredible. They were all professional musicians so it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise to Myka, when she first heard them, that they were so exceptionally good. They played mostly covers with a few originals thrown in, but they had an audience that came from miles around. They’d been approached by a few management companies over the years, according to Pete, but Helena and Claudia turned them down each time. Their day jobs were the important part; this was just for fun. Myka settled back in her chair and, well, ogled Helena, for want of a better term, as she played the Yamaha electronic baby grand that she’d bought with her own money and donated to the university.

 

It was only six months or so ago that Myka went with Helena to the music shop in Manchester where she’d tried the piano out. They had both geeked out a little over the technology. The piano could be played both as a live instrument, or the strings could be damped and it became a purely electronic instrument. Myka had watched in awe that day as Helena lost herself in playing the beautiful baby grand, first testing the mechanics and acoustics of the actual piano, then playing it silently using headphones to test the electronics and the various sounds. Myka remembered the day vividly, because that was the day when she had to admit that her feelings for Helena were more than simple attraction. The salesman had invited Myka to listen through some headphones attached to a mixing desk at the back of the store. Watching Helena’s long thin fingers coaxing amazing sounds from the silent instrument, she’d felt something well up in her chest, and her eyes had filled with tears as the beauty of Debussy’s Clair de Lune washed over her. When Helena finished playing, Myka and the salesman had exchanged looks of awe.

 

When she played in the band, Helena stayed back in the background, but the piano and Claudia’s guitar held the music together. They played cover versions, but with a distinct twist that was all Claudia and Helena. It was mostly acoustic, but with a depth and a kick to it that you didn’t normally get with cover bands. Their soul-filled version of Prince’s “Purple Rain” got requested every week. Leena’s voice was low and sultry – she’d been compared to Corinne Bailey Rae – and Steve’s voice, when he could be persuaded to sing from behind his drums (Claudia calling him Karen Carpenter when he did was _not_ helpful in persuading him), was similar to Damien Rice’s rasp. They updated their setlist often to incorporate new music, and as a result were probably one of the most popular cover bands in the North West of England.

 

Myka thought back to the first night she had come here, to the Adelphi student union bar. She was new to the UK, new to teaching, and had decided to try and get “out there” and make some friends. Leena, the course administrator, had urged her to visit the union on the Thursday night before her official first day. When she sat down, she was hit on approximately seven times by horny students – of both sexes, much to her amusement - before Sam Martino swept in and pretended to be her boyfriend to drive away the vultures. Once the last of her hopeful suitors had disappeared, Sam introduced himself as the drum guru for the music department. She introduced herself politely as Myka Bering, guitar and lecturer in pop music history.

 

“I’m impressed. I had you pegged as a lead singer,” Sam said, all easy confidence and smiles.

 

“Why?” Myka had asked, curiously.

 

“Because you’re so beautiful, of course,” he said, in his thick Salford accent that she suddenly found strangely pleasant. She rolled her eyes at him, but then smiled. He was arrogant, but she had always kind of liked that.

 

They talked together that night over pints of bitter – a beverage that Sam introduced her to – until the band started playing. Myka became entirely absorbed in the music and the way the band played together. And the dark haired pianist was incredible. Her playing was flawless, but that wasn’t what held Myka’s attention. Even in the background as she was, she was the most interesting person in the room. Her rather eccentric style, rock mixed with Victorian elegance, her striking features, her incredible smile – everything about her intrigued Myka. She wouldn’t meet her - Helena - officially until the following Monday at her induction, but that night they shared plenty of looks that, for Myka, fairly crackled with electricity. Sam noticed and tried to coax her into dancing with him to some of the faster songs, but she turned him down politely so she could carry on watching the band. Watching Helena.

 

The following Monday, Myka was doubly nervous. Not only was it her first day at a new job in a new country, but she was going to officially meet Helena. When she arrived, Myka sat herself hesitantly in Helena’s office, in the high-backed chair she now occupied so often during the working week. Helena introduced herself and in the course of welcoming Myka to the university and to the UK, casually mentioned her partner Giselle with a rueful smile that said everything Myka needed to know. Myka was crushed. She felt – she _knew_ – that there was something there, between them. But she learned quickly that Helena was devoted to Giselle, so she moved on, losing herself in her work and eventually accepting one of Sam’s many invitations to go out. She liked him, and after a few months she fell for him. They dated for a year before he asked her to marry him. She met his parents, Becky and Jack, who were wonderful, salt of the earth Salford folk, and that helped to cement her decision. She married Sam a few months later. They had a delirious first few months of marriage after an amazing honeymoon in Tuscany. Myka was happier than she’d ever been. She loved her job, she had some great friends, and she was madly in love.

 

Four months after their wedding she arrived home after lectures and found Sam lying on the sofa. Sam hadn’t arrived home until 2am, so him taking a nap during the day wasn’t surprising. As was her usual habit when she found him like this, she leaned over the back of the sofa to kiss his neck and wake him. That’s when she realised. His neck was cold. He had an aneurysm that ruptured, probably when he was asleep. He would have felt no pain, the coroner said. Myka had spent months obsessing over it, researching abdominal aortic aneurysms and their warning signs, wondering whether she should have known, should have noticed. But it ultimately made no difference - everything she’d been building, her new life in the UK, it all crumbled at the moment when her lips touched his cold skin. Her love for Sam was the centre of her new life, and now he was gone. She was 28 years old and a widow.

 

She seriously contemplated moving back to the States at that point and maybe teaching somewhere in Colorado, but it was the support of her friends here in Salford that changed her mind. All she had at home was her disapproving father and her perfect sister, and a mother who could be replaced with a wet lettuce leaf without any discernible effect.

 

“Hey Myka,” came a voice from behind her. She mentally steeled herself in case it was yet another of her unwanted suitors. When she turned round, though, it was Abigail Cho, Leena’s roommate and best friend.

 

“Hey, Abigail! It’s great to see you. How are you?” Myka said, genuinely pleased to see her. She didn’t know Abigail well, but she had always found her to be engaging and amusing. She was from somewhere in the South of England, not quite as posh as Helena but pretty close.

 

“Do you mind if I sit with you? I was supposed to meet Joshua but he’s running late.”

 

Myka nodded, smiling.

 

They listened to a few songs in companionable silence before Abigail turned to her, put her hand on top of Myka’s, and asked her the question she’d dreaded since she arrived in Salford four years ago.

 

“So, how long have you been in love with Helena?” Abigail’s eyes were narrowed, a sly smile on her face. Myka could feel the intense blush that was, once again, spreading across her chest and neck.

 

“What…what do you mean? Helena? We’re just friends.” She tried to brush it off, tried to be dismissive, but she knew she was failing miserably as Abigail’s smile swiftly became a grin.

 

“Oh, come off it, Myka. You are practically drooling. You’ve barely taken your eyes off her since I got here. I mean, I get it, she is seriously fit, and if I wasn’t with Josh, I would be tempted.” Abigail was openly laughing now at Myka’s attempts to dissemble. Myka gave in, sighing in resignation.

 

“I knew it was a mistake to let you sit here,” Myka grumbled. “Damn psychiatrists, sticking your nose in…” She smiled. “Okay, I guess it can’t hurt to be honest. As long as you promise not to tell anyone,” she said, shaking a finger at Abigail in warning.

 

Abigail smiled.

 

“Of course. I’m pretty sure Leena knows, to be honest, but I won’t say a thing. And Joshua wouldn’t notice if you and the entire band were dancing naked in front of him, he’s so obsessed with his bloody cello. I’m actually jealous of the thing. It gets between his legs a hell of a lot more than I do, I can tell you.” She laughed again, and Myka joined in this time. All the while wondering how obvious she had been.

 

“So, how long? I know she’s with that awful Giselle witch, isn’t she? Or has that crashed and burned?” Myka shook her head ruefully at that last question.

 

“Sadly, they are still together. I wouldn’t mind so much if Giselle actually cared about her, you know? But she’s such a…” Myka lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned closer to Abigail, “ _bitch.”_

Abigail laughed.

 

“You know, Myka, bitch isn’t even really a swear word over here. You certainly don’t have to lower your voice to say it! But you are right, Giselle is a right bitch. Nobody likes her, and Leena is always saying how much she takes advantage of Helena’s good nature.”

 

Myka nodded, taking a sip of her pint thoughtfully. The band were playing “Smooth Operator,” by Sade, a total classic, in her opinion. She took a moment to appreciate it before returning to the conversation.

 

“She is such a manipulator. Do you remember that night, at Professor Nielson’s Christmas Party, when Helena was talking about her daughter and how she didn’t want to get a nanny because Christina had two perfectly good parents?” Abigail nodded.

 

“And Giselle made this…this _face_ , like she was disgusted that Helena had called her Christina’s parent. I had to rein myself in to avoid slapping her.”

 

Abigail nodded, a little more soberly this time.

 

“I saw that, too. She is a real arsehole. I mean, who does that? Being a gold digger is one thing, but when there’s a child involved – that’s really shitty.” Abigail took a long drink from her gin and tonic.

 

“I just hate the idea that Helena’s being taken for a ride, you know? I mean, she’s such a nice person. She works so hard, and she’s doing such a great job with Christina. She deserves somebody who sees that, who will really be a parent to that kid,” Myka said, plaintively. She was glad to have someone to talk with, finally, about her concerns.

 

“Someone like you?” Abigail asked, her eyes suddenly sharp as she looked at Myka.

 

Myka mumbled, “Well, I’m not saying I’m perfect. But I would definitely appreciate Helena more than that woman does.”

 

Abigail smiled.

 

“I agree, Myka. Helena is so smart, I don’t understand why she can’t see what Giselle is really up to. And I also think you guys would be perfect together. She’s obviously interested in you.”

 

Myka blushed and smiled simultaneously as Helena caught her eye and winked at the exact moment that Abigail made that observation. Helena smiled at her softly, fondly, and turned her attention back to the piano.

 

Abigail laughed again, a full throated chuckle.

 

“Talk about timing! I’d say that more or less proves my point, wouldn’t you?”

 

Myka was too busy blushing to even get any words out.

 

When the band took a break, Helena came to join them. Myka had a drink for her already, a pint of Guinness.

 

“So, how are you two ladies this evening?” asked Helena, cordially. She and Abigail chatted for a while about inconsequential things. They knew each other but not terribly well so it was mostly small talk. After a few minutes Abigail excused herself to use the bathroom. Helena turned to Myka and smiled, but it was lacking her usual sparkle.

 

“So,” she began, conversationally, while drawing patterns in the condensation on her glass idly, “you and Abigail seem to be getting on well.” She smiled again, but she wouldn’t meet Myka’s eyes, and her smile was tight. Myka was a little confused, so she smiled back warily.

 

“Uh…yeah. Abigail is nice. She’s really funny.”  

 

Helena’s smile got a little tighter.

 

“That’s nice,” she said, taking a large swallow of her Guinness and looking off into the distance.

 

Myka was even more confused now.

 

“Do you…do you not like Abigail?” she asked, trying to get to the root of this weird tension. Helena was drumming her fingers on the tabletop in agitation. She turned her head sharply at Myka’s question, finally meeting her eyes.

 

“What? Of course, I get on very well with Abigail. Whatever do you mean?”

 

“I…well, you seem a little…annoyed or something, I guess,” Myka said, beginning to stammer.

 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Helena said, in a rather haughty manner. She sounded like the old lady from Downton Abbey. It was at that moment that Joshua finally turned up.

 

“Hey guys,” he said, giving them both a quick wave. “Have either of you seen Abigail?”

 

Myka answered while giving Helena the side-eye worriedly.

 

“Hey Josh - she’s just in the bathroom. She asked if she could sit with me because you were gonna be late.”

 

He sat down at the table next to Helena, who was looking from him to Myka in confusion. Joshua smiled across the table at Myka.

 

“Thanks for taking care of my girl for me, Myka,” he said cheerfully.

 

Abigail returned to the table just then and said, “You better not be talking about me, Josh. I am a grown woman, not a bloody girl.” She gave him a mock glare and then smiled and leaned down to kiss him.

 

Myka was still giving Helena the side-eye, wondering what she had done to offend the other woman. When Abigail kissed Josh, Helena’s eyes widened and she blushed slightly.

 

Myka spent most of the rest of the band’s break confused and quiet, watching Abigail and Josh chat, and trying very hard not to stare at Helena, to try and work out what _that_ was all about. Normally Helena couldn’t wait to talk to her to see what she thought of the new songs they’d arranged or just to gossip about work. A few minutes before the band were due to go back on, Helena turned to her.

 

“I’m sorry, Myka,” she murmured, eyes downcast.

 

“What for?” Myka asked, confused.

 

“You were right,” Helena sighed, “I am in a bit of a mood, and I was grumpy and ungracious. I apologise.”

 

Myka still didn’t know what to make of all this.

 

“Um, sure. No problem. Are you okay?”

 

Helena smiled sadly.

 

“I had an argument with Giselle. She got back from her fashion thing two days ago and I asked if she would stay with Christina tonight. She said no, she was too tired. I got a little bit…wound up, I think, because I’ve been so tired while she was off in Milan. I was rude to her, and now I’ve been rude to you, too. I am dreadfully sorry, Myka.”

 

Myka put her hand on Helena’s arm hesitantly and gave it a quick squeeze.

 

“It’s okay, Helena. I’m sorry you guys are fighting.”

 

Helena gave her a grateful smile.

 

“So who is looking after Christina tonight, then?” Myka asked, taking a sip from her glass.

 

“Charles. He was supposed to be attending some sort of do for the Guardian – his company advertises a lot in their publications - but you know how much he adores Christina. I felt rather bad for asking, but I couldn’t very well let Claudia down. I just wish Giselle would…” she trailed off.

 

Myka just smiled sympathetically, squeezing Helena’s forearm again before letting go and taking another sip from her beer. She wasn’t about to get in the middle of another couple’s fight. She’d seen how that ended way too many times in the past. It was a good way to lose friends.

 

“Thanks for listening, Myka. I better get back up there. Thank you for the drink.” Helena smiled at her and grabbed her hand for a moment, giving it a squeeze. She wandered off to leave her empty glass at the bar and went back up to the stage as Myka watched her in confusion.

 

Abigail moved to take the seat that Helena had just left, pulling it closer to Myka.

 

“What was _that_ all about?” she asked excitedly.

 

Myka shrugged, her eyes slightly wide.

 

“That was weird, right?”

 

Abigail nodded. “Completely, utterly awkward. What did she say to you?”

 

Myka told Abigail about the short conversation they’d had, and that Helena had been asking about Abigail before Josh showed up. Abigail’s face lit up in excitement.

 

“Oh my God - she’s jealous! She thought you were going out with me! That’s why she got so pissy!”

 

“No - she said she had a fight with Giselle,” Myka said, shaking her head.

 

“Well, she might have done, but _that?_ That was the green-eyed monster in all its glory. She was fine as soon as Joshua got here, wasn’t she?”

 

“I guess,” Myka said doubtfully. She wasn’t convinced.

 

“Trust me, Myka. She really likes you. She was really pissed off. I’ve known her for years and I’ve never seen her that annoyed.” Abigail seemed almost gleeful at just how pissed off Helena was. Myka was still confused, and was even more so when Helena spent the whole second half of the set watching her and smiling. Myka decided to go home a little early. She was confused by Helena’s behaviour and she was tired and sad and tired of _being_ sad. She gave Helena a little half-wave as she left. Helena smiled at her quizzically, unable to do anything else as her hands were occupied with the keys of the piano. Myka just smiled and left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Helena's fit of jealousy, and a visit to see Sam's parents.

* * *

 

The next day, Myka didn’t seek Helena out as she usually did when her lectures and meetings had finished for the day. Unusually for her, she didn’t feel like spending time with Helena. The night before, the awkwardness – she didn’t want a repeat of it. And Helena’s situation with Giselle was frustrating, both as a friend of Helena’s, and as someone who had feelings for the woman that she couldn’t – shouldn’t – express. Myka hid out in her small cave-like office and calmed herself by getting out her small travel guitar and running through some exercises, followed by a few of the late Michael Hedges’ extraordinary pieces. She was no virtuoso, but she was more than competent and quickly lost herself in the music. The intricate harmonics, the different techniques – it was part of what she loved about music. The ingenuity of humanity in expressing emotion was a thing of incredible beauty. When she was younger she was more interested in the technique, in the technicality of it, but as she’d grown older and more skilled, it was the beauty, not the technical difficulty of a piece, that called to her.

 

When she came back to herself and opened her eyes, she was surprised to see that she had a visitor. Helena Wells, leaning against the doorway, was watching her intently. She had in her hands a tray containing two hot drinks – Myka’s usual offering to her.

 

“Hey, Helena,” Myka said, flustered. She’d been so lost in the music, in her own mind, that she hadn’t even heard the door open. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even hear you knock.”

 

Helena flushed a little.

 

“Actually, I didn’t knock. I opened the door as quietly as possible so you wouldn’t stop playing. I so rarely get to hear you. I’m sorry to interrupt. But I haven’t seen you today and I thought you might like a pick-me-up.”

 

Myka smiled gently.

 

“Thank you, Helena. That’s so thoughtful.” She put her guitar carefully back on its stand in the corner beside the small desk and quickly leaned over to remove the pile of test papers and other paperwork from the small chair against the wall. Helena sat down gratefully and passed Myka her coffee, watching her intently as she took the first sip.

 

“My God, Helena, where did you get this? This is _not_ cafeteria coffee!”

 

Helena smiled in pleasure.

 

“Does that mean you like it?” At Myka’s enthusiastic nod she continued, “I found a small artisanal coffee shop just up the road – it’s a bit of a hike on foot but I thought you would appreciate it.”

 

The coffee was a little cooler than Myka would have preferred but it was delicious.

 

“Is that Jamaican Blue Mountain?” she asked, incredulously.

 

Helena beamed.

 

“Yes, it is. I thought you might like it. And I…I owed you an apology after treating you so poorly last night. I do hope you will forgive me.”

 

Helena smiled hopefully and Myka smiled back, feeling a little better about last night and the unfamiliar awkwardness that had sprung up between them. Helena leaned forward and touched Myka’s knee lightly.

 

“So, you left early last night. Are you okay?”

 

Myka flushed slightly.

 

“Yeah, I guess I was just tired and…” she trailed off, searching for a way to explain why she’d left early when she always, always waited to chat to Helena for a while after the band finished. Any reason that didn’t involve explaining that she was freaked out because Helena had been less than pleasant to her for the first time ever, and because Abigail thought Helena was jealous.

 

“You were thinking about Sam?” Helena asked, tilting her head slightly.

 

Myka nodded, biting her lip and feeling guilty. Because she hadn’t really been thinking about Sam, other than in the abstract. She was tired of feeling lonely since Sam died, rather than feeling sad about Sam in particular. Helena squeezed her knee sympathetically.

 

“It will get better, darling, I’m sure.”

 

Myka’s heart thundered at the endearment. She very much wanted to hear Helena call her ‘darling’ in a different context. But she felt so damn guilty for feeling that way. She took a large mouthful of the delicious coffee so she didn’t have to talk. There was a moment of not entirely comfortable silence, and then she tried to change the subject.

 

“So, did you and Giselle talk after your argument?” she asked.

 

Helena’s face darkened.

 

“No. She wasn’t home last night when I got there.”

 

“Oh. Is that…is that normal?” Myka asked. She didn’t want to pry too much into Helena’s relationship with Giselle; it felt like she was exploiting their friendship for her own ends.

 

“No, not particularly. She has her own life and her own friends, as do I; we’ve never been particularly couple-y in that way. But she does normally sleep at home. We haven’t ever really fought like this, to be honest.” Helena pushed her hair back from her face with one hand, smiling at Myka ruefully.

 

“I think I’m usually much more likely to let these things go. But for some reason I was just so…bloody infuriated that she wouldn’t look after her own daughter for one night, when I’ve been killing myself for the last few weeks to do my job and look after Christina. Sometimes…I wonder whether she even thinks of Christina as her daughter. We’ve been together since before Christina was born. It’s never occurred to me that she might not love my daughter as I do.”

 

Myka gave Helena a sympathetic half-smile, not entirely knowing what to say to that. She was pretty damn sure that Giselle didn’t care about Christina at all, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to say that to Helena.

 

“I’m sure that’s not true, Helena. I’ve only met Christina a few times, and I love her already. It’s impossible not to.”

 

Helena smiled at that.

 

“She is rather adorable, isn’t she?”

 

She began to recount a series of stories about what Christina had been up to for the last week at school, and Myka watched her, smiling and nodding at the appropriate places, and trying hard not to fall in love with Helena any more than she already had. It was difficult not to, when she was so enthusiastic and her face was shining with love for her daughter.

 

“She keeps letting me down, when it comes to Christina. I don’t quite know what to make of it.” Helena suddenly said in an almost-whisper. Myka was shocked when she realised that Helena was near tears. She took Helena’s hand.

 

“Hey, Helena. Some people just aren’t good with children, you know? I’m sure that’s all it is. And you know, you can always call me if you need someone to look after Christina. It’s not like I have a busy social life these days. I would be happy to help.”

 

Helena looked at her in astonishment.

 

“You would do that? Really?”

 

Myka shrugged. 

 

“Of course. You’re my friend, Helena. If I can help, I will.”

 

Helena’s expression changed from astonished to thoughtful. And slightly pained.

 

“Thank you, Myka. That really does mean a lot. Anyway, I must be going, I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

 

She gave Myka’s hand a squeeze before letting go, and then stood up and threw her empty cup in the wastepaper basket. She smiled at Myka and as she was leaving, stopped in the doorway.

 

“It’s a real pleasure to hear you play, Myka.”

 

“Thanks, Helena. It was nice to see you,” Myka said, smiling. Her smile faded as she heard Helena’s footsteps retreating down the corridor. Why the hell had she offered to look after Christina, especially right after Helena had been complaining about her girlfriend who refused to do exactly that? Now it would look like she was trying to replace Giselle. She cursed herself silently and packed her stuff up. It was time to go, before she did any more damage.

 

*

 

Helena walked away down the corridor, sobered by her conversation with Myka. The fact that Myka had offered so sincerely to look after Christina if Helena needed her help was telling, and in complete contrast to Giselle’s attitude. She loved Giselle, she had loved her for such a long time. But she was beginning to think that Giselle was not the woman Helena had always believed she was.

 

She decided to speak to Claudia. Claudia was her best friend, after all, and she wasn’t one to pull punches, especially not where Christina’s wellbeing was concerned. She found the young redhead halfway underneath the baby grand in the empty student union.

 

“Claudia. What on earth are you doing?” Helena asked.

 

Claudia jumped, banging her head on the bottom of the piano. She wiggled out from underneath, rubbing her forehead gingerly with the back of her hand.

 

“There’s something wrong with the sustain pedal; I noticed it last night. I just wanted to check the wiring.” She wiped her hands on her jeans and sat, cross-legged, on the floor.

 

“Sit. What’s going on, Wells?” she asked, tilting her head slightly in concern.

 

Helena sat on the small stage next to her friend, leaning back on her hands and stretching her legs out in front of her.

 

“I am worried.”

 

Claudia lifted an eyebrow.

 

“Giselle?”

 

“Yes. She refused to look after Christina, _again._ I am so annoyed, Claudia. Charles had to miss some dinner for the Guardian.”

 

“You told me this last night, Helena. What’s really bothering you?”

 

“Myka.”

 

Claudia whistled.

 

“What’s going on? Did something happen between you two? And what was that, with you and her and Abigail last night?”

 

Helena gave her a mildly offended look.

 

“Of course nothing happened between us, Claudia. I would never cheat. I just…I thought she was on a date with Abigail last night, and I think I may have behaved rather badly as a result.”

 

Claudia gave her a look. The patented Claudia Donovan “I’m being patient with you but my patience is not infinite” look™.

 

“And?”

 

“ _And_ , I apologised and brought her a coffee from the coffee shop on Quay Street as a mea culpa. And then she offered to look after Christina if I ever needed her to.”

 

“So what is it that’s bothering you more? Is it the fact that you were jealous, or the fact that Myka is offering to look after your daughter when your own girlfriend won’t?” Claudia asked.

 

Helena sighed heavily.

 

“Honestly, Claudia, I don’t know. Things with Giselle are…less than optimal. She hasn’t been home for weeks because of this thing in Milan, and as soon as she _is_ home, she’s refusing to spend any time with Christina - again. It was only for a few hours, for Christ’s sake! She doesn’t seem interested in me or Christina, and when she’s here I sometimes feel like she might as well not be. She doesn’t really seem present, if you know what I mean.”

 

Claudia did, indeed, know what Helena meant. Giselle was incredibly hot, if you swung that way, but she was either dazzling you with her charm or she was ignoring you – there wasn’t really any middle ground. And Claudia had suspected for the longest time that Giselle was just a gold digger and that she was running out of patience with pretending to give a damn about Helena and Christina.

 

“So what are you going to do about it?” Claudia asked seriously.

 

“I don’t know. I love Giselle, but I am starting to wonder whether we really have a future. I was hoping we would be married by now, but she never seems to want to talk about it. She’s always so focused on her career. Which I am absolutely fine with, usually – I take my career seriously too. But she never shows any interest in Christina. It’s beginning to worry me. Do you think I have been…I mean, do you think that Giselle cares about Christina? Or do you think she just tolerates her because of me?”

 

Claudia chewed on her lip for a moment, thinking.

 

“Can I be honest? Without you taking offence?”

 

Helena nodded cautiously. Claudia studied her carefully before speaking.

 

“I don’t know if I really believe that Giselle cares about Christina. I don’t know her very well, but that’s not for the lack of trying. She’s just not interested in being friends with your friends. Or that’s how it seems to me, anyway. My point is, I could be wrong because I don’t know her, but she’s never given me the impression that she cares about Christina as anything more than her partner’s daughter – if even that.”

 

Helena stared at her.

 

“Why haven’t you told me this before?” she asked, open-mouthed.

 

“Firstly, because you didn’t ask. Secondly, because I know enough to know that I should stay out of other people’s relationships. And thirdly, because I know how much you care, and I don’t want you to be hurt. But right now, I think the way she is treating you and Christina is not okay, so I thought it was time I said something.”

 

Claudia was annoyed. She didn’t want to get drawn into this mess, but Helena was being taken for a ride and if even she was beginning to see that, Claudia didn’t think keeping her mouth shut was the answer, not any more.

 

Helena lay back, flat on the wood of the stage, hands behind her head as she stared at the ceiling.

 

“Jesus. Have I been completely blind this whole time, Claudia?”

 

“Love makes us do crazy things, HG.”

 

They sat there together in silence for a while, and Helena suddenly jumped up.

 

“I need to go. Christina is due to finish school shortly and I need to pick her up.”

 

“And Giselle is…where?” Claudia asked, pointedly.

 

“I haven’t got a bloody clue. She stormed off last night and I haven’t seen her since,” Helena said glumly. Claudia raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

 

“Thanks for the chat, Claudia. I appreciate you being honest with me,” Helena said, giving Claudia’s shoulder a squeeze as she jogged out of the student’s union to pick up her daughter. Claudia sat there for a few minutes, worrying about her friend. Helena deserved a lot better than Giselle. If HG was finally coming to her senses, Claudia would do whatever she could to help. It was about time. She got up and made her way slowly back underneath the piano to locate and fix the faulty wiring.

 

*

 

That evening, a very thoughtful Helena Wells was presented with a contrite Giselle Williams, bearing chocolates and flowers and apologies. She apologised at length for her behaviour, and said it was the result of her being so overtired from her trip. Helena nodded and played along, returning the enthusiastic kiss Giselle planted on her as soon as she accepted the apology. But later that night when Helena was nodding off, Giselle mentioned another trip to Paris that was coming up, and Helena began to think again. Giselle had never apologised before, for any of her behaviour, and the first time she did, it was when she needed Helena to pay for something. It also occurred to Helena that this was the first time she had ever left Giselle to her own devices after an argument. Usually Helena was the one to apologise, to give in, to send a text message or buy a gift to smooth things over. That Giselle was doing so now – it made Helena think. She was also thinking about Claudia’s words from earlier that day. _Did_ Giselle just tolerate Christina for Helena’s sake? It was true that she’d never been particularly maternal, but Helena had still believed that Giselle loved Christina almost as much as she did. But did she actually have any evidence of that? Lately, Giselle had been making excuses when it came to spending time with Christina. Entirely unbidden, Myka’s open, caring face flashed through Helena’s mind. Myka had offered to look after Christina if Helena ever needed help. And her own girlfriend, the woman she was hoping to one day marry, couldn’t be arsed to even sit with Christina for a few hours to help her do her homework and watch some telly and put her to bed. It suddenly occurred to Helena that every time she brought up the subject of marriage, Giselle changed the subject, somehow. Or distracted her with sex. Not that she minded that kind of distraction, as a rule. As she lay in bed next to a softly snoring Giselle, her mind was filled with images of Myka in that ridiculously tight pair of jeans and fitted leather jacket that she wore most Thursdays. She idly wondered whether Myka would be as sexually forward as Giselle. And then she berated herself silently for thinking of her friend in that way.

 

Thoroughly distracted and unable to sleep, Helena decided to go downstairs and make herself some tea. Perhaps a nice camomile, to help her to get to sleep. When she sat down on the sofa in her silk pyjamas and sipped the hot tea, her mind returned to her own behaviour of the night before, when she had been convinced that Myka was seeing Abigail. The band was playing Smooth Operator – nothing too complicated, so Helena’s mind had wandered a little as she played, and her eyes wandered, as they were wont to do on Thursdays, to Myka. As she looked over, Abigail put her hand on top of Myka’s and looked at her sincerely, her head tilted to one side as they talked. Myka was blushing, and Helena knew that blush – she had _caused_ that blush on many, many occasions. So she jumped to the apparently incorrect conclusion that they were on a date. The wave of jealousy that rushed through her at the thought was sickeningly intense. Helena knew that if she didn’t sit with Myka during the band’s break, Myka would be confused and probably hurt, and Claudia and Steve would want to know why – they were terrible, those two, for prying. (They really were the worst, those two, for gossip. Of all the people in the world she would have expected to end up as friends, Claudia and Steve were the last. She thought Claudia’s more mercurial moods would put Steve off, given that he was so calm and serene all the time. But he loved Claudia like a sibling, and apparently the feeling was mutual.) To avoid any questions, Helena went to sit with Myka as usual and made polite conversation with Abigail, who was someone she had known for a long time, if not particularly well. When Abigail went to the loo, Helena couldn’t help but comment on how well the two were getting on. She struggled to keep the acid from her tone, and she knew that she had failed when Myka had looked at her with that wounded puppy look that made Helena’s heart ache. It all became clear when Joshua Donovan appeared, looking for Abigail. Helena was mortified.

 

Helena sipped her tea in her silent house, with her daughter and her girlfriend sleeping upstairs. As she looked into her teacup, she didn’t see any patterns that indicated what her future held. She did, however, think that it was telling that she was sitting here in the dead of night thinking about a woman who was not her girlfriend. The girlfriend that she had always thought she would marry. It occurred to Helena then, for the first time, that she wasn’t sure she wanted that anymore.

 

At that precise moment, Myka was sitting at the breakfast bar in her kitchen, sipping a mug of Horlicks. Horlicks was a malted milk drink that Leena had recommended to her years ago when she was having trouble sleeping during her students’ exams. She’d always been a worrier when it came to her own exams and she’d found that it was doubly difficult to watch her students go through it because she had no control over whether they did well or not. She wasn’t sure if Horlicks was sold in the US; if it was, she had never come across it. But it always helped when she couldn’t sleep. This week had been a bit disconcerting, and it had left her feeling unsettled. She shrugged her shoulders and stretched to release some of the tension in her muscles. Helena was one of her closest friends (Pete, of course, had the role of her BFF, as he insisted on calling it) and it was strange for Helena to be mad at her or for things to be awkward between them. There was this burrowing, squirming feeling in her belly when she thought of Helena’s closed off expression the night before, and the way the woman had almost run off earlier when they were talking about Giselle. Myka thought her words had been supportive and noncommittal, but perhaps she’d offended Helena without realising it. She knew that Helena was committed to Giselle and she didn’t want to get in the way of that. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She _did_ want to get in the way of that, very much so. But she knew that she _shouldn’t_ want that. She shouldn’t want Helena Wells as fiercely as she did. She shouldn’t dream about Helena. She shouldn’t be sitting up in the middle of the night thinking about Helena, who was another woman’s girlfriend. Myka might be a widow, but she was still young and free and single. Maybe it was time to get out there again. Sam wouldn’t have wanted her to be alone. She sighed as she finished her drink and went back to bed to try to get some sleep.

 

After a quiet weekend and a pleasant Sunday morning spent reading the papers, Myka made her way through the wilds of Salford to see Rebecca and Jack Martino. She tried to make it over there at least once a month. Becky made the best Sunday roast, with home-made Yorkshire puddings and ‘proper’ gravy. And it was nice to be there, where she and Sam had spent so much time relaxing and talking. Myka couldn’t imagine things being this easy at her mom and dad’s home above the bookshop. She couldn’t eat at home without feeling like her dad was watching her, judging her. He always had a comment about how much she ate, or told her to take her elbows off the table, or to stop fidgeting. She never felt relaxed at home, even when her dad wasn’t there. His presence loomed somehow, whether he was there or not. When she was at the Martino house, however, she was so relaxed and felt so at home that she often fell asleep on the couch after stuffing herself silly with Becky’s amazing cooking.

 

This week was no different. Becky told her she was too skinny, Jack gave her the best hug, and they ate and Myka slept like a baby for a few hours before waking up and apologising as usual. Becky told her not to be so bloody daft. She loved the way they spoke; it had taken her a while to get used to it, but now she deliberately sprinkled her own speech with Salford-isms that endlessly amused Helena. She sighed loudly as she thought about Helena, and Becky and Jack turned to her in concern.

 

“What’s the matter, love?” Jack asked, his voice full of worry. His concern made her throat tighten and her eyes fill with tears. She missed Sam so much, and she was eternally grateful that she still had his parents in her life. They were some of the nicest people she had ever met.

 

“I…well…” she started, but then thought that maybe talking to her dead husband’s parents about someone she had feelings for might be a little insensitive. However, Becky sat next to her on the sofa and put her arm around Myka’s shoulders.

 

“You can tell us anything, love. You’re allowed to move on, you know. Sam would want you to be happy. Have you met someone?”

 

“Well. Not really,” Myka began, sighing. “It’s someone I’ve known for a while.”

 

Jack nodded. “Ah. Helena, then?”

 

Myka stared at him in astonishment.

 

“How did you know?”

 

“Sam. He knew you had a bit of a thing for her – he said the two of you were thick as thieves, but she had a girlfriend. He said that if she had been single, he wouldn’t have stood a chance with you. And then you two fell in love, so he never mentioned it again.”

 

Myka was stunned. It had never occurred to her that Sam was aware that she was attracted to Helena.

 

“I can’t believe he knew – he never said anything about it!”

 

Rebecca gave her a squeeze.

 

“He knew you had a connection. And I don’t think he would begrudge you the happiness, if you two ever got together. So don’t be feeling bad on his account, or on ours. Because we want you to be happy too, Myka.”

 

Myka found herself spilling the whole story of her week, how Helena had been acting, and how much Myka cared for the other woman. Jack and Becky were sympathetic and sweet and caring and Myka couldn’t really believe how wonderful they were being, and how wonderful it was to really talk to someone about Helena.

 

“It sounds to me like this Giselle is taking the living piss out of that poor girl, Myka,” Jack said. “She deserves better. She deserves someone who loves her. And so do you, Myka. Just give it time. These things have a way of working themselves out.”

 

“I hope you’re right,” she murmured.

 

As she was leaving, Becky told her again that she shouldn’t feel bad for caring about someone else. And gave her the world’s biggest hug. Myka drove home feeling a lot better about the whole thing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claudia and Myka have a bit of a chat, and Giselle upsets Helena again.

* * *

The following week was a bit of a blur. It was coming up to some of the practical exams and Myka's guitar students were hyper and over-caffeinated. She ended up doing a lot of extra practice sessions and lessons, and was so behind by Thursday that she had dinner in her office while doing paperwork. She finished what she absolutely had to do for the next day and went downstairs to the union bar where the Caretakers were almost halfway through her set. Abigail and Joshua had snagged her usual table in her absence and she joined them wearily to have a beer or two, but she once again left early and without speaking to Helena, this time because she was so tired rather than for any more emotional reasons.

 

Friday was much the same, and she didn’t get a chance to have her usual chat with Helena. In fact, she’d barely seen her at all that week. On Saturday, however, it was Steve’s birthday, and Pete had invited everyone to their large city centre apartment for a celebration. Myka was hoping Helena was going to be there; she had missed the other woman’s company. She wasn’t disappointed, because Helena was there. But so, unfortunately, was Giselle.

 

Myka was talking to Pete about Amanda, who he said was giving him encouraging signals. He was thinking about asking her out. Myka didn’t know Amanda particularly well but she could definitely see the appeal. She was incredibly beautiful – not that Myka was attracted to her, but aesthetically she could appreciate why Pete was interested.

 

“I don’t know, Pete. I guess it depends what you mean by signals.” Myka said, nursing a lemon beer concoction that was apparently called a Radler. It was pleasant and light and she would need to drink a million if she wanted to get drunk. But she didn’t like to drink too much around Pete anyway; his dad had been killed by a drunk driver and Pete had never touched alcohol because of it.

 

“She laughed at my jokes,” Pete said, giving her a significant look.

 

“Which jokes, specifically?” Myka asked. “Because I’m going to need more information before I make a determination here.”

 

“You know the one about the nun and the Lebanese tourist? And the one about the chicken and oral sex?”

 

Myka stared at him.

 

“She laughed at those? Okay, she is definitely into you. Because those jokes? Not even remotely funny.”

 

Pete grinned and punched the air in triumph.

 

“I knew it! Thanks Mykes, you’re the best.”

 

She smiled tolerantly at his antics and returned his exuberant hug. He ran off to find Amanda. She smiled as she watched his retreating figure, and leaned back on the kitchen worktop, taking a sip from her bottle.

 

“Myka!”

 

Helena appeared from the living room, waving at her and smiling. Myka smiled back, a smile which faltered when she saw Giselle’s perfect but dour face appear just behind Helena. She had a bad case of – what was it the kids called it now? – resting bitch face, that was it. Myka tensed just looking at her. She could see, looking at Giselle’s tall, model-like figure and her expensively styled hair, what Helena saw in her, aesthetically. But she couldn’t imagine trying to connect emotionally with the woman. The face she presented to Helena must be different from the face she presented to the rest of the world, Myka thought. Because she couldn’t see the Helena she knew and loved with someone this cold.

 

Helena approached and gave Myka a brisk hug, warming her much more thoroughly than the tiny amount of alcohol in her drink. Giselle offered her a disinterested, limp handshake, as if Myka was beneath her notice. Myka smiled back, trying to look sincere. Helena was already chattering about Christina’s football game (which meant soccer, Myka always had to remind herself) and how she’d scored twice. Myka was impressed, and said so. Giselle sighed and looked away. Myka didn’t entirely know what to do in the face of that kind of rudeness, so she, too, looked away and pretended to be hungry, grabbing a snack at random from Pete’s kitchen table. She didn’t notice, therefore, the dark and angry expression that crossed Helena’s face.

 

Giselle wandered off, glass of wine in hand, presumably to find someone more worthy to talk to, and Helena stayed with Myka for a while, catching her up on workplace news and gossip since Myka had been so busy for the whole week with her guitar students. It was pleasant and comfortable and Myka found herself watching Helena’s face as expressions flitted across it, enjoying the animated way that Helena spoke about their colleagues and students. Abigail was right. She was hopelessly in love with Helena, with the way that her lips moved, with the dark, deep colour of her eyes, with the way those eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled.

 

“What are you smiling at, Myka?” Helena asked, suddenly, with an answering smile on her own face.

 

Myka flushed a little. She couldn’t very well tell Helena that she was smiling because she adored hearing her talk, now, could she?

 

“I was just thinking of a joke that Pete told me,” was the first thing that came to mind. Helena’s eyebrows raised in disbelief.

 

“Pete told you a joke and you, Myka Bering, found it funny? That is, one of Pete Lattimer’s jokes. Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah, well, don’t tell him, it’ll go to his head,” Myka said, ducking her own head and rubbing the back of her neck. She was so bad at lying, she would have been better telling the truth and then running away to Peru or something. It would have been less humiliating than Helena believing that she’d find any of Pete’s juvenile humour amusing.

 

Helena grinned at her.

 

“You are a terrible liar, Myka. But I’ll let it go for now.” And she did, kissing Myka on the cheek (which made Myka blush all the more) and going off to find Giselle.

 

“Well, that looked veeeery cosy,” came a sardonic voice from behind Myka as she watched Helena find Giselle, who was talking to Amanda’s dance teacher friends, and take her arm.

 

“Hey Claudia,” Myka said, raising an eyebrow. “What exactly does that mean?”

 

She wasn’t entirely sure about Claudia Donovan; never really had been, if she was honest. Claudia was nice enough, good at her job and Helena clearly loved her, which made her okay in Myka’s book, but her comments always seemed to have an unpleasantly mocking edge to them when directed at Myka. Myka never really knew where she stood with the young redhead, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that Claudia didn’t really like her. Or that she had done something to upset her, possibly. Myka wasn’t sure.

 

“I mean, you and Helena seem to be getting on well.” Claudia leaned back with her elbows on the countertop, her posture unconsciously echoing Myka’s.

 

“It’s funny, that’s what Helena said to me last week about Abigail. I’m not entirely sure what she was getting at either,” Myka said pointedly. She hadn’t done anything wrong and there wasn’t any reason for Claudia to be annoyed at her, and she was tired of feeling uncomfortable around her.

 

“What I’m getting at, Miss Bering, is that Helena cares about you. And I think you care about her, too. I’m just not sure what your motives are.” Claudia’s eyes were sharp, as sharp as her words, almost.

 

“My motives? What the hell are you insinuating, Claudia?”

 

Myka was pissed, now.

 

“You offered to look after Christina. What the hell was that all about, Myka?” Claudia asked, tone biting.

 

Myka flushed, this time with shame. She knew how that looked, her offering to look after Christina when Giselle wouldn’t.

 

“All right. I will admit that it was stupid… I didn’t mean to say it, Claudia. She just looked so damn sad. I wanted to help. If you think I should, I will tell her I can’t do it after all.” She held Claudia’s gaze for a long moment. Claudia was frowning at her in suspicion, and then she seemed to relax.

 

“Okay, Bering. Spill it. What’s going on with you two? Do you just want to bang her, or is it more than that?”

 

Myka was insulted, but she was starting to understand why Claudia had always given her those looks as if she wasn’t quite to be trusted. She thought Myka was trying to break Giselle and Helena up.

 

“There is nothing going on with us, Claudia. I have…I have feelings for her. But I would never do anything that would jeopardise her relationship, her happiness. She’s my friend, and I want her to be happy. Even if it’s not with me.” She grimaced a little.

 

She looked around for something stronger than her beer – it was way too weak for this conversation. She saw some Scotch on the table, so she went over and snagged it with a couple of glasses, pouring one for Claudia and one for her. She took a mouthful, running it round her mouth, feeling it burn her cheek and gums before she swallowed.

 

“I would never do anything to hurt her. Offering to look after Christina – it was an instinct, I guess. She just looked so small, so worried. She was talking to me about Giselle and how she isn’t interested in Christina, and I told her I was sure that wasn’t true.”

 

Claudia watched her silently, raising an eyebrow at that last comment.

 

“Yeah, I know. She totally doesn’t care, but I can’t tell Helena that. I can’t get in the middle of this,” Myka said plaintively. She suddenly really wanted Claudia’s approval and understanding.

 

“And yet you have done exactly that, by offering to babysit little C.” Claudia’s voice was flat, unwavering, like her gaze.

 

“I know. Jesus.” Myka shook her head. “I’ll tell her that I can’t. It was a stupid thing to say. I just wanted to help.”

 

Claudia shook her head.

 

“No, Myka. She needs to know she has support. I don’t think she took it that way – that you were trying to replace Giselle or whatever. But I needed to know if that was what you meant. Helena is a good person, but she’s already being exploited by one complete bitch – I wanted to make sure you weren’t another one, waiting in the wings to swoop in.”

 

Myka didn’t quite know what to say to that. She felt like she should be insulted, or hurt, or something, but then Claudia raised her glass in a silent toast, and she felt better.

 

“I’m pretty sure I love her, Claudia,” she blurted.

 

“I see that.” Claudia’s voice was no longer sharp; it was sympathetic, and her eyes were warmer as she returned Myka’s gaze evenly.

 

Myka left the party shortly afterwards, slipping out without saying goodbye to Helena or Pete. She didn’t feel like dealing with any well-meaning questions about why she was leaving early. She was suddenly weighed down by her feelings for Helena and this seemingly hopeless situation. She went home and found some Scotch in the back of a cupboard, drinking until the early hours and reading one of her old favourite books to escape from things for a time.

 

Monday came again, as Mondays will, and Myka busied herself with lectures and guitar lessons and meetings with the faculty to organise written exams, which were coming up again. Helena was heading the meetings and she smiled at Myka as she always did. She did look concerned, however, and Myka steeled herself for yet another conversation where Helena asked what was going on with her and she had to lie.

 

After the meeting Myka decided to get on with marking some of the early submissions of assignments she’d received from the more eager students in her pop music history lectures. They had been courteous enough to be early; the least she could do would be to mark and return them in a timely fashion. She was almost done when there was a quiet knock at her office door.

 

“Come in,” she called, her hand buried in her hair as she read through a particularly badly-phrased explanation of why Will Smith’s early rap “Boom! Shake the room,” was a prime example of the genre. She sighed heavily and had almost forgotten that someone even knocked at the door when Helena put a delicious-smelling coffee in front of her and sat in the chair in her tiny, cramped office.

 

“Oh, hey, Helena! Sorry, I got totally caught up...” she said tiredly, gesticulating at the piles of paperwork she’d worked through that afternoon.

 

“You look tired, darling.”

 

Helena smiled at her softly and Myka’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. She wished – oh, she wished…

 

“I am, I guess. I should head home, I suppose. But not before I have some of this.”

 

She sipped at the coffee greedily.

 

“Did you walk all the way up Quay Street to get this?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at Helena.

 

“Yes,” Helena said, smiling, but with a slight flush on her cheeks. “You looked tired in the meeting before; I thought it might help.”

 

Damn. Why did Helena have to be so nice? It made everything so much harder.

 

“Thank you,” Myka said, ducking her head shyly.

 

“Is everything okay, Myka?” Helena asked, her brow creasing in concern as she began fixing her tea as she usually did, fiddling with the tea bag and sugar and milk.

 

“Yeah, sure…why?” Myka tensed. She did not want to have this conversation with Helena, not when the biggest problem in her life was how much she was in love with Helena, who had a girlfriend. It was ridiculous.

 

“You seem, I don’t know, a little distant, perhaps? And you left the party very early the other night…I know Giselle wasn’t being particularly nice to you, for which I am sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately…” she trailed off. “Anyway, I was just concerned.”

 

She looked up at Myka as she finished with her tea paraphernalia and took a sip. Her eyes were so beautiful, and so full of concern. It was so unfair – Giselle didn’t deserve Helena. ( _“And you do?” came a traitorous voice in her head. It sounded like Claudia.)_

“I’m fine, Helena, really. You worry too much. I’ve been a little overtired and I think things have been getting on top of me.”

 

Myka smiled at Helena, hoping that her smile looked more sincere than it felt. Helena peered at her sceptically for a moment and smiled, changing the subject to one of the department heads who was a terrible bore in all of their meetings and had spent what felt like hours talking about envelopes at a recent meeting. They talked and laughed as they always did, but Myka felt Helena’s eyes on her as she talked or looked away, and something felt…strained, between them. Myka wasn’t sure exactly what it was. It wasn’t exactly news to her that she had feelings for Helena, but she was used to it. Something had changed, then, with Helena. She found herself watching a little more closely when Helena spoke, especially when Christina or Giselle came up. Helena’s face tensed a little every time she spoke of her home life – it was almost imperceptible, but it was there. Myka wondered if Giselle had done something else to upset Helena or her daughter, but she wasn’t about to ask, not after her conversation with Claudia. She might have misinterpreted, but it seemed like Claudia was warning her against any interference in Helena’s home life after her screw up with offering to babysit Christina. She hoped fervently that it would never be necessary for her to look after Christina.

 

The rest of the week went very much as usual. Her lectures went well and her lessons, after the madness of the previous week, were sparse. She had dinner with Pete on Monday and he regaled her with tales of the wooing of Amanda Martin. She was only half listening as he enthusiastically re-enacted his evening with Amanda. He hadn’t even noticed that she left the party early, thank God, so she didn’t have to try and explain that she was acting like a moody teenager with a crush.

 

Thursday, however, was not usual. She was getting ready as usual to go to the Union, deciding to wear some of her less clingy jeans and one of her old university sweaters rather than her usual more revealing shirts. It was time, she had decided, to stop trying, consciously or unconsciously, to look good because Helena was around. She would go as she was and try to deal with reality. Helena had a girlfriend and that wasn’t about to change. And Myka wasn’t going to try to change it.

 

Then her phone rang.

 

“Helena?”

 

“Myka, I’m so sorry to call you at the last minute like this. But…I need your help. Charles is in London and Giselle and I…well, we’ve had a bit of an argument, and there isn’t anyone else I can call. Would you mind – would it be okay…” Helena’s voice cracked as she trailed off. She was obviously upset.

 

Myka’s mind was racing. This was not good. Claudia might murder her in her sleep. But she couldn’t leave Helena like this.

 

“I’ll come over and look after Christina, Helena. Don’t worry. I’ll be there in a half hour, okay?”

 

Helena thanked her profusely before she hung up. She grabbed her car keys and drove straight to Helena’s house. Myka wasn’t even wearing her contacts; she’d taken them out earlier because they were bothering her, fully intending to put them back in again before she went out. She pulled up in the driveway of the beautiful detached house in Prestwich that Helena shared with Giselle. Helena had opened the door before Myka even got out of the car, and was enveloping her in a convulsive embrace as soon as she stepped out. Myka instinctively returned the hug, astonished to find that Helena was shaking.

 

“Hey, Helena. It’s okay, I’m here. Are you okay, honey?”

 

Helena grabbed her even tighter, not speaking. Myka didn’t know what to do so she rubbed Helena’s back until she loosened her hold. Myka drew back slightly so she could look at Helena, who was wiping at her eyes fiercely as Myka tried to catch her eye.

 

“Hey, Helena,” she said, in a gentle tone, “what’s going on? Are you okay?”

 

“No, I’m really not, Myka. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry to be so emotional. It’s not like me.” Helena pulled back and wiped her eyes again. They were red-rimmed and her face was streaked with tears and the remains of her eyeliner, by the looks of it.

 

“Shall we go inside, and maybe you can have some tea and tell me what’s going on?” Myka asked gently, taking Helena’s hand in what was meant to be a sympathetic gesture. Helena held on, though, and nodded before pulling Myka along behind her, inside the house. They went into the kitchen and Myka gestured for Helena to sit down. She made some tea after fumbling around a bit looking for teabags and sugar and spoons. Helena was staring off into space, her head in her hands. Myka sat down next to her, putting a mug of tea in front of Helena and taking a sip of her own before she spoke.

 

“Do you want to tell me what this is all about, Helena? I’ve never seen you this upset. What happened?”

 

Helena sat up a little straighter, lifting her head and taking a sip of the hot tea.

 

“Giselle. She was supposed to look after Christina tonight, after the debacle of a few weeks ago, and I was almost ready to go when Christina told me that she didn’t want to stay with Giselle, because Giselle didn’t want to spend time with her. I asked her what she meant, and she said that last week Giselle had given her money to stay upstairs in her room and not “bother” her. Bloody _bother_ her, Myka? She’s supposed to be her parent! Christina said it’s not the first time, and that Giselle told her it had to be a secret or she wouldn’t give her money. And being a nine year old, and a mercenary little git when she wants to be, she didn’t want to lose her extra income.” Helena smiled wryly at that before sobering.

 

“I told Christina to go upstairs and listen to her music, and that I would deal with it. When Giselle got home from whatever the bloody hell she’s been doing, I confronted her. She told me that she was sick and tired of looking after Christina, that she wasn’t a babysitter, and I needed to get a nanny. It was…she was like a different person, Myka. She called Christina a sneaky little bitch for telling me. And that’s when I asked her to leave.”

 

Myka’s mouth fell open at that last. Holy shit – she called Helena’s daughter a bitch? Who does that?

 

“I…wow, Helena. I don’t think I know what to say. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe she would say something like that about Christina. That’s…Jesus.”

 

She unthinkingly put her hand on Helena’s. What did you say to someone when their significant other had behaved like that? Somehow, though, the innocent, sympathetic gesture didn’t feel so innocent when Helena looked up at her.  Her eyes were darker than Myka had ever seen them, and something in the atmosphere of the room changed in that moment. Myka was momentarily thrilled but immediately frightened. This woman, her friend, was reeling from a major fight – possibly even a breakup - with her girlfriend. Whatever was happening here shouldn’t be. Myka pulled her hand back slowly and looked away, taking a sip of her tea to cover her discomfort.

 

“So, what now? Does Christina know I’m here?”

 

When she looked back, Helena was avoiding her gaze.

 

“She does, now. I went to speak with her once Giselle left – slamming every door in the bloody house on her way – and Christina was perfectly happy with that. You made quite the impression, apparently, the last time you met. Something about a giraffe? I didn’t quite get the whole story.”

 

Myka smiled. Christina really was the cutest. There was a barbecue at Leena’s the previous summer and she had been chatting with Christina, who’d told Myka that one of the girls in her class at school was making fun of her for sleeping with a teddy bear. Myka told her that she still slept with her cuddly giraffe sometimes when she felt like it. Christina was much heartened by this, apparently, and told Myka at a later date that she would sleep with her teddy if she felt like it, because Myka was a grown up and she did. And the other girl could like it or lump it, she said proudly. That was one of Helena’s favourite phrases, which Myka was particularly fond of. She had beamed at Christina in response, and the little girl had reached up and given her a big hug in that uninhibited way that children did, totally melting her heart. She didn’t understand how anyone didn’t like the little girl, especially not someone who had watched her grow up. It just solidified her opinion of Giselle; she didn’t appreciate what she had right in front of her.

 

Helena was watching her intently when she looked up. It was, again, a strange atmosphere, and Myka was beginning to become uncomfortable. She wanted Helena so incredibly badly, and she was worried that by even being here, she was taking advantage. She stood up suddenly, smiling nervously.

 

“So, you should probably get back, right? The gig is starting in less than an hour. Don’t want to be late, huh?”

 

Helena nodded, still with that strange look on her face.

 

“I should…I’ll go and get Christina. I’m sure she will want to bend your ear about something or another. I’ll get changed before I head off. Are you all right down here for a moment?”

 

Myka nodded, and Helena headed upstairs quickly. Myka wondered briefly if she should text Claudia and explain why she was here. But she wasn’t sure she knew how she had come to be in this position. Hopefully Helena would talk to Claudia and she wouldn’t have to fear the young woman’s wrath the next time they spoke.

 

Christina came bounding down the stairs energetically, throwing herself at Myka and giving her a huge hug.

 

“Hey, Christina!” Myka said, surprised by the enthusiastic greeting.

 

Christina let go of her and smiled up at Myka.

 

“I’m really glad you’re here, Myka. Mum was really upset.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. She told me to put my headphones on, but I didn’t. They had a big fight and I think Giselle called me a bad name.”

 

Shit. Myka didn’t know what to say to that.

 

“Uh…I bet she was just mad. Grown-ups say stupid stuff they don’t mean all the time. You shouldn’t let it upset you, honey.”

 

Myka pulled the girl into another hug then, kissing her on the top of the head. The kid was so easy to love – she was like Helena in miniature, all mercurial moods and impulsive affection.

 

“I know,” Christina said against her sweater. “I don’t care. I hate Giselle, she’s mean to me all the time. She pretends to like me when Mum is around, but she just ignores me or makes me go to my room as soon as Mum goes out.”

 

“Hey, I’m sorry, honey,” Myka said, helplessly. What do you say to a kid who has just told you something like that?

 

“It’s okay, Myka. You’re here, and I like you. And Mum likes you, too.” Myka smiled down at the little girl who was still holding on to her sweater.

 

“That’s great, because I like you too. Did you do your homework already?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did your mom check it?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay, cool. Are you allowed to watch some TV when you finish your homework?”

 

“Yes. Mum lets me watch an hour, or sometimes a little bit more if it’s something I really like, like Doctor Who.”

 

“Okay, then. Shall we go see what’s on?”

 

Christina nodded and took Myka’s hand, half-dragging her into the living room. She chattered enthusiastically about every choice that Myka gave, eventually deciding that they should watch Horrible Histories. It was very amusing, and Myka was giggling along with Christina by the time Helena came back downstairs. Myka didn’t hear the other woman come down, so she was startled when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Helena was standing in the doorway, staring at her and Christina with an unfathomable look on her face. She was dressed up in her usual Thursday gear – tight jeans, a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a grey waistcoat – and she looked amazing. Myka’s throat tightened a little.

 

“Hey, Helena. Is it okay for us to watch a little TV? Christina said she did her homework.”

 

“Of course. I…yes, of course. Bed by 10, young lady, and not a moment later.”

 

Christina rolled her eyes and Myka couldn’t resist – she tickled the girl until she apologised, giggling and begging for mercy.

 

“Sorry, mum. I will be in bed by 10,” she said solemnly. And then giggled again.

 

Myka stood and saw Helena to the door.

 

“She’ll be fine, Helena, don’t worry. I’ll make sure she goes to bed on time and brushes her teeth.”

 

Helena gave her another strange look.

 

“Are you okay, Helena?”

 

“Yes. As much as I can be.”

 

But her eyes were still dark, and Myka couldn’t interpret the look in them. It made her nervous, like butterflies-in-her-stomach nervous. She backed away from that look involuntarily, and Helena took a step forward, lifting one hand slightly before backing away and turning to open the door.

 

“Thank you, Myka. You are a good friend.”

 

“Sure. I guess I’ll see you later, then. Have a good gig.”

 

Helena turned and nodded, wordlessly, before closing the door behind her. Myka let out a breath, a sigh, as the door closed. This was…not good. Not what she had planned for this evening, when she’d put on an old sweater and a loose pair of jeans, to avoid any inadvertent flirting or…whatever. She ran her fingers through her hair, taking a deep breath. Then she turned and went back to the living room, sitting beside Christina on the couch to carry on watching Horrible Histories, and definitely not to obsess over the strange way Helena was behaving.

 

Myka had a great time with Christina. She was such a great kid, polite and well spoken. She told Myka all about Giselle’s behaviour, and Myka tucked it all away to pass on to Helena. It seemed like this had been going on for a while, and that things were just coming to a head now. If Helena knew that Giselle had left Christina unsupervised in the house on several occasions – she’d go batshit crazy. But how could Myka _not_ tell her about it?

 

Christina was obedient and, after an extra hour of TV that she promised not to mention to her mum, went to bed without complaint, asking Myka to read to her before she went to sleep. Helena had been reading a series of books by Tamora Pierce to Christina about a young girl who was in training to become a knight. Christina loved it and was dying to take up fencing to be just like Alanna. Myka refrained from offering to teach her; she was pretty well trained herself but she didn’t want to compound the error she had already made by getting any more involved in Helena and Christina’s life. 

 

After Christina was asleep (which happened halfway through the chapter) Myka crept out of her room and went downstairs. She perused Helena’s bookshelves and picked up a new-ish novel that was getting great reviews, settling down in an armchair to read. She wasn’t entirely sure when she slipped into sleep, but when she woke up, Helena was sitting on the end of the couch. Her posture was almost rigid, and she was staring off into space, her hand in a fist at her mouth.

 

“Oh, crap, Helena. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Myka said, appalled.

 

Helena turned to her with a tight smile.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Myka. If I’d been here I would have been doing exactly the same thing – I’m usually asleep on the sofa before Christina even goes to bed. She’s perfectly safe with you in the house.”

 

Myka sat up, adjusting her glasses and checking surreptitiously for any stray drool.

 

“How did it go tonight?” she asked, softly.

 

“Fine, yes. Just the usual, really. Did Christina behave for you?”

 

Helena was still looking at her, with a half-smile on her face but still tense, still not herself.

 

“Yeah, she was great, Helena. She’s such a sweet kid.”

 

“I’m glad _you_ think so,” Helena snapped, immediately. Then she sighed.

 

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. None of this is your fault, you’re helping me out and here I am being a right bitch to you,” Helena said, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

 

Myka didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t make this better, so she sat up and started to put her shoes on, getting ready to go.

 

“I really am sorry, Myka. You don’t have to go.”

 

“Don’t worry, Helena. It’s fine. I should leave you to get some rest; it’s late.”

 

It _was_ late – it was almost 1am. Myka stood and Helena stood up a moment later. There was an awkward moment when Myka went to walk to the door and had to get past Helena, who was lost in thought, apparently. Myka shuffled past awkwardly in the tight confines of the hallway, smiling at Helena uncertainly before turning to go.

 

“Myka.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Thank you,” Helena said quietly, staring at her shoes.

 

“Get some sleep, Helena. It’ll be better in the morning.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myka decides to tell Claudia about Giselle's endangerment of Christina. This does not go down well...

* * *

 

Myka went to work the next morning and sent Claudia an email as soon as she got in, asking her to pop by if she got a minute on a personal matter. About ten minutes later the redhead was knocking at her door.

 

“What happened?” she asked, flatly, as Myka opened the door.

 

“Helena called me last night,” Myka said, gesturing for Claudia to take the other chair. “Giselle said something awful about Christina and Helena threw her out.”

 

“Shit,” Claudia said, chewing on her nails distractedly.

 

“She didn’t say anything to you last night, then?” Myka asked.

 

“No. Steve was having kind of a crisis with this guy he’s been seeing so I was talking to him most of the night. So did you go babysit Christina then?”

 

Myka nodded, still shamefaced that she had become involved when she really should not be.

 

“And how was it?”

 

“When Helena was there, things were a little weird. I don’t really know what was going on with her, she was so angry and hurt, and when I got there, she grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. I know she’s pretty tactile, generally speaking, but she has never just hugged me like that before. I didn’t really know what to do. And then when she left, Christina was awesome – that kid is so damn sweet, seriously.”

 

A genuine smile broke out on Claudia’s face at that.

 

“She really is, isn’t she?” she murmured.

 

“She is. But she told me that Giselle has been paying her to keep out of the way when Giselle is looking after her. That’s what started the whole argument last night. And then Christina told me that Giselle has left her on several occasions to go out, God knows where. She always gets home before Helena comes home so Helena didn’t know anything about it. And now I don’t want to tell her, because of…you know, everything.”

 

Claudia stared at her.

 

“Giselle left a 9 year old girl in the house on her own? To do what?” she asked, incredulous.

 

Myka shrugged.

 

“Christina didn’t know. Giselle bribed her, and since this bribing Christina thing has apparently been going on for a while, it didn’t seem that unusual to her. She just went to her room and kept herself occupied with books or toys or whatever like she always does when Giselle is looking after her. I don’t think she even really knows how long it’s been happening for.”

 

“I’ll tell Helena. Best if you stay out of it, I think, don’t you?”

 

Myka nodded mutely. She had offered to help with Christina out of friendship, but this – getting in between two parents, one of whom she had feelings for – was definitely not a good idea. 

 

“Thanks, Claudia. I know you and I aren’t really friends, but I am worried about Helena and I don’t want to get in the middle of this thing with her and Giselle.”

 

Claudia looked at her curiously.

 

“Why do you think we’re not friends?”

 

“Well, you’ve never really been that friendly to me. No offence.”

 

“I suppose. But in my defence, I thought you were trying to move in on Helena even though she was with Giselle. But I’m still here if you need anything.”

 

And with that, Claudia left, presumably to find Helena. Myka sighed and started reviewing her notes for her lectures.

 

When she was finished with her students for the day, she decided to pack up and go home early rather than go to visit Helena as was her normal habit on a Friday afternoon. She was tired and she really, really didn’t want to make things any worse. She did send her a quick text just saying that she was heading home, and that she hoped Helena was doing okay after last night.

 

She went to bed early that night and the next morning, went to breakfast with Leena. She was surprised to see that Abigail was with the administrator; she’d never come along before. They ordered some food at their favourite greasy spoon and they chatted about Professor Nielsen’s new girlfriend, Dr Vanessa Calder, who Leena had known for many years, apparently.

 

“She got divorced from her ex, Hugo, about three years ago, and Artie has been ‘paying court’ to her, as he puts it, for a year. I think they’re going to get married. They’re the most adorable couple ever, honestly,” Leena said, eyes sparkling.

 

“So what about you, Leena?” Myka asked, “Any action in your love life?”

 

“No,” Leena said, shaking her head ruefully. “I wish. I was kind of into your friend Pete for a while, but I heard he asked Amanda Martin out, so I think I’ve missed the boat, there.”

 

“Really?” Myka asked, stunned. She had no idea.

 

“Yeah. He’s just so - chilled, you know? Like he’s totally happy with himself and the way he is. It’s really nice to be around, especially after all the stress with students and the administration.”

 

“You should have told me!” Myka protested. “I would have been your wingwoman!”

 

Leena smiled.

 

“I didn’t want to put you in a compromising position. What if you asked him and he didn’t like me? Then you’d have to tell me! That’s hardly fair.”

 

“Fair enough, I guess. But if it doesn’t work out with Amanda, I’ll see what I can find out, okay?”

 

Leena nodded, smiling.

 

“So what about you? Abigail says she thinks you have a crush on someone. Might it be who I think it is?” Leena asked, teasingly.

 

Myka’s face fell.

 

“Oh, crap, Myka. What happened?” Abigail asked, putting her hand over Myka’s.

 

“Nothing – not to me, anyway. I just kind of got in the middle of something, and now I don’t really know what to do.”

 

Leena smiled at her, tilting her head slightly.

 

“So you do like her, then. Helena?”

 

Myka nodded, biting her lip.

 

“Oh my God, I knew it! You guys would be so awesome together. I hope she gets rid of Giselle soon, that woman is totally bad for her. And Christina.”

 

Myka made a face at that.

 

“Yeah, I’ll say.”

 

Abigail squeezed her hand.

 

“What happened?”

 

“I don’t know how much I should tell you; it’s not really my business. And Claudia is really kind of pissed with me for getting involved in the first place.”

 

“You don’t have to tell us anything, Myka. But it might make you feel better. It won’t go any further, I promise,” Abigail said, and Leena nodded in agreement.

 

“Okay. Well, I was speaking to Helena about a week ago, and she was saying that her and Giselle are kind of going through a difficult patch, and that she’s not sure that Giselle cares about Christina because she never wants to spend time with her.”

 

Abigail and Leena both nodded. Leena, especially, was well aware of how Giselle was about taking care of Christina, because she managed Helena’s work schedule and had been forced to make last minute changes on more than one occasion because of Giselle.

 

“She looked so sad. I mean, she was nearly crying. And I’ve never, ever seen Helena cry. She’s always so upbeat. So I offered to babysit if she ever needed my help. She said thank you and practically ran off and then I realised what a terrible idea it was – like I was trying to replace Giselle, you know?”

 

Myka took a deep breath.

 

“Anyway, last Thursday she called me at the last minute and asked me if I could babysit Christina because she had another fight with Giselle and Charles was away. So I went up there, and she just grabbed me as soon as I got out of the car – she was shaking and crying. I felt so damn bad for her. We went inside and I made her some tea. She told me that Giselle has been paying Christina to stay in her room and not ‘bother’ her. So Helena confronted her, and she called Christina a sneaky little bitch for snitching on her.”

 

Abigail and Leena gasped in unison.

 

“That woman is such a complete knobjockey, seriously! Who says that? Who would do that?” Abigail asked, aghast.

 

“I know,” Myka said. “But it actually gets worse. Anyway, when I was talking to Helena things got a bit intense – I can’t really explain it. I just kind of put my hand on hers, sympathetically. I didn’t mean anything by it. And she just looked at me like…I don’t know. It made me nervous, so I started babbling and she went to get Christina. But it’s been really awkward ever since. And that night, Christina told me that Giselle had actually gone out a few times and left her alone at night. She never knew why. And this bribing Christina to keep quiet thing has been going on for a long time – maybe years. I didn’t tell Helena, because she was in this crazy angry mood when she got home on Thursday. So I just told her to get some rest and I left. But I told Claudia yesterday, and I think she’s going to tell Helena.”

 

Leena whistled.

 

“Wow. That is…that’s not good. Helena is going to lose it. If there’s one thing you don’t do, it’s mess with Christina.”

 

Abigail nodded.

 

“She is going to go _mental_. Where is Giselle now? Did she finish with her?”

 

“I don’t know. She threw Giselle out when she called Christina a bitch. What happened after that, I don’t know,” Myka said distractedly, running a hand through her hair.

 

“Shit. If Helena doesn’t dump Giselle now, she’s crazy. That woman – I do not know how she got Helena to go out with her in the first place, honestly. I’ve never seen her be anything other than unpleasant to anyone,” Leena said, shaking her head.

 

Myka was picking at the tablecloth.

 

“I just kind of feel guilty – I should never have got involved. I have an ulterior motive here – I am crazy about Helena, you know? I understand why Claudia was so pissed at me – it’s not like my motives are exactly pure when it comes to Helena.” She stared at the tablecloth glumly.

 

Leena touched her hand lightly.

 

“Hey, Myka. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just trying to be a good friend. I know you have kind of ended up in the middle of this, but you just offered to babysit. You didn’t shag her in your office or anything, did you? No? Then don’t be daft. This is Helena’s problem, not yours. If I were you I would just stay out of it and see what happens. I know Helena pretty well and I think she likes you – a lot, actually. So if you’re patient, things might work out. You never know.”

 

Myka smiled at Leena; the woman always seemed to know what to say to make her feel better.

 

“That’s what Jack said.”

 

“Sam’s dad?” Leena asked.

 

“Yeah. I saw them last week and they told me I should be happy. They are the sweetest, seriously. They’re like the parents I never had.”

 

Abigail frowned.

 

“I didn’t know you were an orphan, Myka.”

 

Myka shrugged.

 

“I’m not.”

 

“Oh.”

 

There was an awkward silence.

 

“So, now I’ve totally weirded everybody out, does anyone want dessert?!” Myka asked, grinning.

 

Leena and Abigail laughed, and they ordered some cheesecake to share.

 

Monday came round again and Myka was incredibly busy getting her examination questions ready for her pop history classes, in between guitar lessons and her regular lectures. She was still in her office at 6.30 when an incredibly pissed off Helena burst into her office and almost slammed the door behind her.

 

“Myka Bering, why didn’t you tell me what Christina told you about Giselle leaving her alone?”

 

Myka gaped at her.

 

“What?” was her eloquent reply.

 

“You told Claudia, but not me. Why? You saw me that night, right after Christina told you. Why on earth did you not tell me?”

 

Myka stared at her for a moment.

 

“I…you were so upset already, Helena. I didn’t want to make it worse. And you know, I didn’t really think it was my place. I’m sorry. I told Claudia right away. I just didn’t know what to do.”

 

Helena’s eyes were blazing. She glared at Myka, her chin stuck out, arms folded across her chest.

 

“You should have told me, Myka. She’s my daughter, for Christ’s sake.”

 

“I made sure you knew, Helena. I didn’t want to upset you. And I didn’t want to get involved. It’s not my place. I’m sorry.”

 

“You didn’t want to get _involved_? What the bloody hell does that even mean, Myka? You know, Christina couldn’t shut up about you all weekend, and now you’re telling me you don’t want to get involved? Well, sod that, Myka. I thought you were my friend.”

 

“Helena, that’s not what I meant. I meant I didn’t want to get involved with your relationship with Giselle. I didn’t mean anything else. Please, don’t be mad.”

 

“Too late, Myka,” Helena snapped. “And don’t worry, you don’t need to ‘get involved’ any further. I wouldn’t like to bother you with my problems.”

 

And with that, she stormed out of the office, leaving a confused and extremely upset Myka Bering in her wake. After a few minutes during which she had to fight not to cry, she called Leena on the internal phone system, asking if she had time for a coffee. Leena was as busy as she was, if not busier, but she agreed anyway. They met in the deserted cafeteria a few minutes later, and Myka told her what had happened. Leena was sympathetic, as ever.

 

“I don’t know what to do, Leena,” Myka said, fighting back tears.

 

“There’s nothing you can do right now, Myka. I would just give her some space. I’ll talk to her when she’s calmed down. Hopefully she’ll realise that you were just trying to stay out of her relationship with Giselle. I’m sorry, Myka. It’s shit that you got caught in the middle of all this. She split up with Giselle on Saturday, maybe that’s why she’s so mad. Giselle came back on Saturday afternoon with flowers and apologies, and Helena confronted her about leaving Christina alone. I don’t know what Giselle said; Helena was too upset to talk about it, really. I just got the highlights. Anyway they’re officially split up now so I think maybe you were just getting some of the backlash. It’ll be okay. She’ll settle down.”

 

“I hope you’re right,” Myka said, her voice tight.

***

 

It was three weeks before she even saw Helena again, apart from small glimpses here and there. Myka decided to forgo her usual Thursday night outings to see the Caretakers and instead took some work home. God knows there was enough of it; the weeks before examination time were horrible. It was stressful enough at the best of times. As things stood, it was torture. She missed Helena fiercely. No matter what her other feelings were for the woman, she was her friend first and foremost, and being at odds with her, not having her to talk to – it was difficult and Myka felt like something was missing, something vital. She saw Pete a few times at work, but he was busy with a new job - he was in the orchestra for a production of Jesus Christ Superstar at the Opera House and didn’t have time for anything other than a quick hello. So Myka buried herself in her work.

 

She decided to go to the Thursday gig a few weeks later, and sat at her customary table, hoping that Helena might have calmed down. Judging from how she avoided Myka’s eyes, she had not. Thankfully, Abigail and Joshua were there, along with Todd, Claudia’s new boyfriend, and Steve’s even newer boyfriend Dave. They were a nice bunch, chatting amiably, and Myka had a pretty good time. But after one too many glances at Helena, with the woman pointedly ignoring her smile, she decided to call it a night. She went to go to the bathroom on her way home and had a call from Tracy, her sister, which she picked up. She was just calling for a chat, and Myka was on the phone for about 10 minutes in the corridor outside the bathrooms. As she hung up and turned to go into the bathroom, she almost collided with Helena, who was just leaving.

 

“Oh, sorry,” Myka said, surprised.

 

Helena glared at her. Myka held up her hands in defeat.

 

“Fine. Be like that if you want, Helena. Goodnight.”

 

She went to move past Helena, and found herself pressed up against the wall of the corridor, Helena’s hand on her shoulder.

 

“How dare you blame me for this, Myka?! You deliberately hid information from me about my daughter. I trusted you.”

 

Myka was suddenly extremely pissed off. The situation was a nightmare. All she had done was try to help.

 

“What the hell, Helena. You’re pushing me around now?” Helena’s face was inches away from her own, her teeth slightly bared and her eyes dark.

 

“I didn’t do a damn thing wrong, Helena. I told Claudia. I tried to stay out of your relationship with Giselle, that’s all. I didn’t want to lose you,” she almost shouted.

 

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me yourself?”

 

“Why the hell do you think, Helena?” Myka shouted, exasperated and near tears.

 

Helena stared at her. And suddenly Myka was being kissed, kissed by a pissed off, sexy-as-hell Helena, who was grabbing Myka’s hair and Helena’s tongue was doing amazing things in her mouth. She tried hard not to reciprocate but _damn_ \- it felt so incredibly good that she couldn’t help herself. It was all starting to get a bit out of control – hands in new places – when there was an exaggerated cough from behind Helena.

 

“HG, we need to start the second set.”

 

Helena turned and said, casually, “Yes, Claudia, I’ll be right out.”

 

Myka almost groaned. Of all the people, it _had_ to be Claudia.

 

“Okay. And Myka? We need to talk.”

 

Shit. Myka did groan then.

 

The door closed behind Claudia and Helena raised an eyebrow at Myka quizzically.

  
“What was that all about?”

 

“Uh, it’s kind of a long story. I think I’m going to have some explaining to do.”

 

Helena just looked at her, seemingly just enjoying the chance to do that without any need to look away. Myka stared back, biting her lip. She had no idea what to do now. Helena was in her arms, they’d kissed for the first time, and she had no idea what came next, if anything.

 

“Should we talk?” she asked, quietly.

 

“I think that might be a good idea,” Helena murmured, before leaning up slightly to kiss Myka again.

 

“What was that for?” Myka asked, slightly breathlessly when they broke apart.

 

“I just wanted to do that while I still can,” Helena said, before kissing her again. What did that mean? Myka’s head was spinning from a mixture of Helena’s kisses and her own confusion about the entire situation.

 

“I have to go,” Helena murmured against her mouth. “Will you stay? We can talk afterwards?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Myka kissed her once more, lingeringly, before letting Helena go. She went into the bathroom. Her legs were trembling and didn’t want to hold her up any more, so she went inside the bathroom stall and sat on the closed lid, taking deep breaths. This was not what she expected when she came here tonight. She thought that, at best, Helena might speak to her. She took another shaky breath as she thought about what had actually happened.

 

It took her a few minutes to gather herself together, but she returned to the crowded union and went back to sit with Abigail and the guys for the rest of the band’s set. She must have looked strange because Abigail leaned over and asked if she was okay.

 

“Sure, yeah. Whatever you think,” she said, dazed as she watched Helena play, Helena’s long fingers on the keys - fingers that she was trying hard not to imagine doing _other_ things.

 

“What the hell just happened, Myka? You were going home, remember? Hello?”

 

Abigail actually tapped on her head to get her attention.

 

“Earth to Myka!”

 

Myka finally came out of her daze enough to realise that Abigail was talking to her.

 

“Shit. Sorry, Abby. I guess I zoned out there for a minute.”

 

“Yeah. And the rest. Did you…” she lowered her voice slightly, “What the hell just happened? Because Helena Wells is _never_ late back on stage, and she just was, for the first time ever. And she looks just as dazed as you do.”

 

“Uh…I’m not sure what you just said,” Myka managed, still staring at Helena.

 

“Myka Bering, did something just happen between you and Helena?” Abigail whispered urgently.

 

Myka’s head snapped round.

 

“Shit. Is it that obvious?”

 

“Yes, it fucking is! Are you serious?”

 

Myka nodded stupidly. Abigail squealed – actually squealed – and enveloped her in a hug.

 

“What was that for?”

 

“I’m just so pleased for you! Seriously!”

 

Myka grinned, suddenly realising what had just happened. Helena kissed her. Helena wanted her. The circumstances were definitely not ideal, but she knew that whatever else happened, she was wanted by the woman she was madly in love with. Helena turned her head and caught her expression, grinning back.

 

The band could have been playing thrash metal for all the attention Myka was paying. She only had eyes for one person. When the set ended, Helena came down to their table and Abigail stood up, taking Joshua with her. The guys went to catch up with Steve and Claudia. Helena sat down next to Myka and stared at her, not speaking.

 

“Hey,” Myka breathed.

 

“Hi,” Helena managed in return.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Helena smiled.

 

“A little dazed, I think. Could I…would it be too much if I asked you to come home with me right now?”

 

Myka’s heart leapt.

 

“Where is Christina?”

 

“Staying with Charles.”

 

“My place is five minutes away, if you don’t have to go home,” Myka countered.

 

“Righty-ho then. Your place it is.”

 

Myka grabbed her coat and Helena followed her mutely. Myka waved at a grinning Abigail as she left. They made the short walk to her building and Helena followed her upstairs silently. As soon as the door closed behind them, though, Helena was in her arms. Myka let herself go as she kissed Helena back fervently, tasted Helena’s mouth, ran her hands through Helena’s hair, hair that she’d dreamed about touching since she’d first seen it. Helena’s hands were in Myka’s hair and her fingers were scratching at her scalp and honestly she felt like she might just die right now, right this minute.

 

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” Helena asked.

 

Myka stared at her dumbly. Stop? Why on earth would she want that?

 

“No,” she said, as if it was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard.

 

Helena grinned.

 

They started kissing again and things got heated very quickly. Helena’s hands were roaming, in places Myka wouldn’t normally have allowed on a first date (if this could be counted as a date) but she didn’t care. She guessed from the taste of stout lingering in Helena’s mouth that she had been drinking, and so too had Myka. Helena was an _incredible_ kisser, and her roaming hands were roaming in all the right ways. They were pretty much just grinding against each other like horny teenagers. Myka thought she should try to slow things down because Helena had only just broken up with Giselle. She was getting ready to say something about how they should talk and then she couldn’t say anything at all because Helena was on her knees and Helena’s arm had snaked up in between her legs, grabbing Myka’s ass and hips and holding her close and Helena’s mouth was _on_ her and when the hell had she pulled down Myka’s jeans anyway? Then it was all Myka could do to stay upright. She grasped the top of the door sill above her head and held on for dear life, her head banging against the door behind her while Helena’s tongue and lips and teeth did amazing things to her. It didn’t take long before she was there - she was a little drunk, after all. She bit her knuckles to keep from swearing or screaming and still let out an incredibly loud groan that probably disturbed most of her neighbours. She looked down at Helena, who was staring up at her with an expression that she didn’t recognise.

 

“You are so beautiful, Myka.”

 

Myka slowly pulled Helena upwards, stepping out of her jeans and underwear as she pulled Helena to her feet. When Helena was standing, she carefully wrapped her arms around Myka and kissed her neck. They stayed there silently for a moment as Myka caught her breath. Myka slid her arms around Helena’s neck and kissed her slowly and softly.

 

“That’s not how I imagined that happening,” she murmured.

 

“So you’ve imagined it?” Helena asked, chuckling near Myka’s ear. Myka kissed her harder in response, and when Helena kissed back just as hard Myka slid her hands down Helena’s body, unzipping Helena’s jeans slowly. She searched Helena’s eyes as she dipped her hand lower, making sure that this was okay, and then she was touching Helena, lost in Helena’s eyes, kissing Helena as she came apart at Myka’s hand. It wasn’t what she’d imagined – there were no candles, no beds – they were standing in Myka’s hallway - but with the way Helena was looking at her it didn’t matter. She knew that she was screwed, now. Maybe, maybe she could have survived Helena before this, but not now. They held on to each other for long moments, breathing each other in.

 

Myka remembered herself enough to pull Helena into her living room, awkwardly picking up her jeans and underwear on the way, and settling them both on the couch. She stared for a moment at Helena’s dark eyes, thrilled by the look of desire in her eyes, the blackness of her pupils.

 

“You are incredible, Helena Wells,” she said dreamily.

 

“You are pretty incredible yourself, Myka,” Helena said, before kissing her again. She began to push Myka gently onto her back, adjusting herself so that she was leaning over Myka’s body. She kissed Myka fully, open mouthed, her tongue playing with Myka’s, leaving them both gasping. She began to make her way down Myka’s neck, biting her way down the delicate skin towards her collarbone.

 

“Don’t leave any marks, I have to teach a class tomorrow,” Myka said breathlessly.

 

“I’ll do my best,” Helena said. Her smirk said she would do nothing of the kind.

 

Myka gasped as Helena bit down on her shoulder, and threw her head back as Helena sucked on a particularly delicate area underneath her jaw. Helena’s breath on her neck made her shiver.

 

“Should we talk?” Helena asked, as she made her way up to Myka’s earlobe.

 

“I’m…not sure I remember how…” Myka gasped. She turned Helena’s head and kissed her, cupping the back of Helena’s skull in her hand and biting down gently on her lip.

 

“I think I might have forgotten how, too,” Helena gasped in return. But then she pulled back slowly and searched Myka’s eyes.

 

“I think we probably need to talk before this goes any further,” she said, looking concerned.

 

“We’ve already gone further, Helena. And I am very much looking forward to a repeat performance, preferably in a bed. Or on a couch, at the very least.”

 

“I know,” Helena smiled. “I just…I don’t want you to do anything you might regret.”

 

Myka rolled her eyes, smiling.

 

“Helena. I could _never_ regret this. Not with you. Not even if it never happens again. Even if it’s just this one night. We can talk tomorrow, if you want. But if you want to be here with me, now, I want to be here with you.”

 

“Are you sure?” Helena asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

She knew that it was stupid, it was greedy, it was selfish. But she had Helena in her arms, and she didn’t want to let her go.

 

“And what about you? What do you want?” Myka asked, watching Helena carefully.

 

“I know I shouldn’t…I know we shouldn’t do this, Myka. But I want to, so much. But I can’t make any promises. I just broke up with Giselle. And there’s Christina to consider.”

 

But she was biting her lip, and she was looking at Myka as if she wanted to devour her. Myka spoke, the words coming out of her in a rush.

 

“I shouldn’t say this. But I’m yours. However you want me. I don’t care about tomorrow, Helena. I just care about right now, how this feels, with you.”

 

Myka leaned forward and kissed Helena again and it began as a way to show Helena how much she was wanted; it was lingering and soft. It turned hard and wild and grasping, however, and soon they were mostly undressed and gasping and Myka’s couch was too small so they made their way together to the bedroom, Myka apologising that she hadn’t changed the sheets. Helena laughed, whispering something that Myka interpreted to be related to how much she _didn’t_ care about the state of the sheets, and then Helena was in her bed, Helena was all around her. Helena brought her over the edge over and over again, and she, in turn, watched Helena gasp and writhe as Myka brought her to the edge and over repeatedly. Eventually they slept, bodies pressed together and limbs entwined. Myka managed, somehow, not to say the words that were trying to escape her, words of love and adoration, but she whispered it to herself when Helena fell asleep.

 

_“I love you so much, Helena.”_

The next morning Myka woke early, as she always did. The sun had just risen and as she opened her eyes she was momentarily surprised to the see the head on the pillow next to hers. Then it came back to her. Helena was in her bed. She had spent an incredible night with Helena. But now it was the next morning, and she didn’t know what the hell to expect. She was wrapped around Helena, her arm slung across Helena’s belly and her leg in between Helena’s. She decided that she wanted to stay right here and enjoy this feeling, because she might not ever get to feel it again.

 

She must have fallen asleep again because she woke when Helena stirred in her arms.

 

“Myka?”

 

“Hey,” she breathed, opening her eyes and looking at a very sleepy Helena Wells next to her.

 

Helena stared back, and Myka was lost, for a moment, in the darkness of those eyes. They were still in each other’s arms and Myka didn’t want to let go. Neither, it appeared, did Helena. She made no effort to move away and after a moment she moved closer to kiss Myka gently.

 

“Good morning,” she said, a soft smile on her face.

 

“How did you sleep?” Myka asked, holding back the questions she wanted to ask.

 

“Like a log. I think you wore me out,” Helena said, smirking.

 

“Likewise,” Myka said, with a wide smile.

 

“I wish I could stay here all day,” Helena said, nuzzling into Myka’s shoulder a little.

 

“Me too.”

 

But they couldn’t. Myka closed her eyes for a moment. She didn’t want to let go of Helena, and she suddenly had to fight the urge to cry.

 

“Hey,” Helena said. “Don’t be upset. It’s Friday. You can sleep in tomorrow.”

 

Myka rolled her eyes.

 

“Thanks for the reminder, Helena. But I am not exactly worried about not getting enough sleep, you know? I just don’t want to let you go.”

 

Helena sighed, closing her eyes for a long moment.

 

“I don’t want to let you go either, Myka. Believe me when I say that last night, and this, waking up with you – it means an incredible amount to me. But I broke up with Giselle a short time ago and I’m not sure how I feel right now, beyond confused. And I am more than cautious about bringing someone new into Christina’s life. I know that you understand that.” Her expression was open and honest and caring and Myka had no difficulty believing that she meant exactly what she said. But it still hurt.

 

Myka nodded. “Of course I do. Christina should come first. And I figure that you are probably going to be very cautious from now on about how anyone you are seeing treats her, after Giselle.”

 

Helena’s face darkened.

 

“Yes, you could say that. I could strangle the woman, honestly. I am fairly sure, from what she said when I confronted her, that she was cheating on me. Which is why she sneaked out those times and left Christina alone.”

 

Myka gasped.

 

“Jesus, Helena. I’m so sorry.”

 

“Thank you, Myka. I am hurt, I must admit. But I can’t bring myself to care about that part, really. Compared to what she did to Christina, it’s nothing. She left my daughter alone, at night, at the age of nine and quite possibly when she was younger, too. Anything could have happened to her. I’m worried about my own judgement now too. I don’t understand how I didn’t see her for what she really was.”

 

Myka stroked Helena’s face, where tears were beginning to fall.

 

“This is not your fault, Helena. She was obviously a good actress. She was the one at fault, not you. You can’t blame yourself for wanting to see the best in people.” Myka leaned forward and kissed Helena softly. Helena kissed her back, and it grew heated and Myka drew back, gasping.

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that, I just…I hate to see you cry.”

 

“That’s quite all right, Myka. In fact I’m tempted to keep you around in case I get upset in future.”

 

Helena winked at her. Myka rolled her eyes. Even now, she had to flirt.

 

“You’re incorrigible, Helena.”

 

“I know.”

 

And Helena kissed her this time, drawing back after a moment.

 

“I’m sorry. I feel like I took advantage of you last night.”

 

“I wasn’t that drunk, Helena. I knew what I was doing.”

 

“That’s not what I meant. I knew…that you had feelings for me, and I shouldn’t have…”

 

“Stop.”

 

Myka held up her hand.

 

“If you’re saying that you don’t care about me, that you have no feelings for me at all, then I deserve that apology, because you used me just for sex. But if you do care about me, then we both did something we wanted to do, both knowing that it was probably just for one night. So you have nothing to apologise for, okay?”

 

Helena nodded.

 

“Good. Now, I have to get up soon, because I have a lecture at 10. What about you?”

 

“Nothing until after lunch. But I have a lot of paperwork to do.”

 

“If it’s not too forward, do you think…I have a little time…”

 

Helena’s lips were covering hers before she finished her sentence.

 

Afterwards, Myka left Helena drowsing in her bed. She had a shower and was brushing her teeth when she noticed the giant hickey Helena had strategically placed on her neck. She just sighed and then smiled, shaking her head.

 

She got dressed and sat down on the bed next to Helena, stroking her hair to wake her.

 

“Hey,” she said, smiling.

 

Helena smiled at her sweetly, still half asleep.

 

“I have to go. Are you okay to let yourself out? You can drop the key off later, if that’s okay?”

 

Helena nodded. She looked thoughtful for a moment, and started to open her mouth to say something. Myka put a finger on her lips.

 

“Was that going to be an apology?”

 

Helena nodded.

 

“Then you can save your breath. We both knew what we were doing. If you ever want to revisit this,” she pointed to each of them, “then we can talk about it, okay? But don’t feel like you made me do something I didn’t want to do. Okay?”

 

Helena nodded mutely.

 

Myka kissed her goodbye firmly and walked out without a backward glance. She didn’t want Helena to see her cry.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the one night Helena and Myka spend together, exam time, and Christmas invitations

* * *

The lecture was long and Myka couldn’t keep her mind focused on what she was doing. In the end she cut it off early, giving the students some further reading to do. She was clearing up her belongings in the lecture hall when she heard Claudia stomp in. She sat down in her chair, resigning herself to the verbal assault she was expecting.

 

Claudia dragged a chair from the corner and sat opposite Myka, searching her face for a moment.

 

“You slept with her.”

 

It wasn’t a question. Myka nodded, keeping her gaze even.

 

“Damn. Are you okay?”

 

Myka’s mouth dropped open.

 

“What? Why are you asking me that?”

 

“I’ve known HG for a long time, Myka. I know she can compartmentalise. You, I’m not so sure about. You love her, and you guys spent the night together.”

 

Myka nodded.

 

“And I’m guessing that you talked a little, and agreed that she’s not ready for a relationship, and she doesn’t want little C dealing with a new woman in her life either, especially not after Giselle?”

 

“How did you…?”

 

“We talk, Myka. A lot, actually. And I spend a lot of time at her place. I know her.”

 

“Okay. Well, yes to everything you just said. She’s right; the timing is all wrong. I just…I wish things could be different.”

 

Claudia looked at her sympathetically.

 

“If it makes you feel any better, Myka, she cares about you a lot. I don’t know if she loves you; I’m not sure she even knows that. But I think that, if you give it time, things might work out.”

 

Myka sighed.

 

“I am pretty patient, Claudia. But this is so complicated. With Christina, and now with everything that Giselle did, I would be surprised if Helena ever trusted anyone again.”

 

Claudia looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

 

“She will never trust _Giselle_ again. And it will be difficult for her to trust anyone new with Christina. But she already trusts you, Myka. She _already_ trusted you with Christina. That’s a big deal. She has only ever let you, me or Charles look after Christina. Other than Giselle, of course, who it seems was a big fat cheater as well as being a horrible human being. Helena sent me a message just now. A friend of Giselle’s contacted her this morning and confirmed that she’s been seeing some finance millionaire – that’s why she was sneaking out and leaving Christina alone. And that’s probably why she was dropping the act so often – she was planning to leave Helena anyway.”

 

Myka shook her head in wonder.

 

“What a compete asshole. Seriously. All Helena ever did was care for her.”

 

Claudia nodded.

 

“At least she’s someone else’s problem now.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So, you okay?” Claudia asked, again.

 

“I guess. I…I don’t know, really. I guess time will tell. Hopefully things won’t be awkward between Helena and I.”

 

“I don’t think you need to worry about that. She’s been hiding her feelings for you for a long time. I think it’s second nature now.”

 

Myka stared at her.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Claudia rolled her eyes.

 

“Come on, Myka. She has always been attracted to you, you know that. But she was with Giselle, and she was faithful and loyal, because that’s how she is. She doesn’t cheat. But it doesn’t mean she wasn’t thinking about you. She and I have talked about you a lot.”

 

“I’m not sure how to feel about that. You two talking about me, I mean. I didn’t tell anyone about how I felt about her, not until recently, anyway.”

 

“Well, it’s tough. She talks to me about everything, so if you two do get involved, you should know that going in.”

 

Myka shook her head.

 

“I don’t think we’ll be getting involved any time soon, Claudia. The way she looked at me this morning – it was like she knew she’d done something wrong. I don’t think her feelings for me are anywhere near as strong as mine are for her. Don’t worry, I’ll get over it.”

 

Claudia looked at her sceptically.

 

“Sure, Myka. You keep telling yourself that. But if you need to talk, give me a call.”

 

And with that she left the lecture hall, leaving a confused and lovesick Myka Bering in her wake.

 

Later that afternoon, there was a knock on Myka’s office door.

 

“Come in,” Myka called, distracted as usual by paperwork and assignments and endless marking.

 

“Good afternoon,” Helena said primly, as she sat herself in the chair opposite, placing Myka’s key carefully on the desk in front of her.

 

Myka laughed. Prim and proper, after what they’d been doing all night?

 

“And what, pray tell, is so amusing?” Helena asked, eyes crinkling at the edges as she smiled.

 

Myka shook her head.

 

“Nothing, Helena. How are you this afternoon?” she asked, mirroring Helena’s casual attitude.

 

“Very well, thank you. I come bearing gifts,” she said, putting a coffee on the desk in front of Myka.

 

“Thank you,” Myka said, opening her coffee and taking a long swallow. She sighed in satisfaction at the now-familiar taste of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee.

 

“And how are you?” Helena asked, casually.

 

“Fine, thanks. Swamped with paperwork. My boss keeps coming up with inventive ways to increase my workload,” Myka said, teasingly.

 

“Your boss sounds like a nightmare.”

 

“You have no idea.”

 

They smiled at each other for a moment, and something of the tension that had risen between them the night before raised its head again. Myka started to flush a little, and she coughed to cover it.

 

“So,” she said, aiming for a conversational tone, “How is Christina holding up since Giselle left?”

 

Helena’s smile tightened a little.

 

“She is surprisingly good, actually. It appears that she was rather glad when I threw Giselle out. She says that Giselle hates her and she is glad she’s gone. She also speaks very well of you, and wants to know when you will be babysitting again,” Helena said, smiling indulgently.

 

Myka’s heart raced a little after that. She loved Christina to pieces, but it couldn’t possibly be a good idea for her to babysit, not after what had happened between them.

 

“I…uh…is that something,” she coughed, “I mean, do you want…” she trailed off helplessly.

 

Helena chuckled.

 

“Are you okay, Myka?” At Myka’s answering nod, she continued. “Christina likes you. If you are ever free and are so inclined, I would be more than happy for you to look after her.”

 

“You trust me to do that, even after everything with Giselle? And even after I didn’t tell you what Christina told me?” she asked.

 

“Well, I admit I was angry that you didn’t tell me yourself, but Claudia spoke to me about it a few times and after last night, I understand why. You were trying to protect me, I think, in your own way. From your own possibly less than pure intentions. Am I right?”

 

Myka considered that.

 

“I suppose that makes sense, yes.”

 

“I should probably be thanking you,” Helena said quietly, looking away.

 

The silence grew thick. Myka finished her coffee and began pulling the paper cup to pieces, her hands needing something to do. When she looked up, Helena was studying her carefully.

 

“Are you okay, Myka?” she asked, finally.

 

“I guess so,” Myka said.

 

“What does that mean?” Helena asked, gently.

 

“It means, I guess I’m okay, yes. Last night – it was amazing. But I can’t help but wish it wasn’t a one-time thing. And I shouldn’t be telling you that, because now look at your face, and you’re going to feel guilty, and I should shut up.”

 

So she did. Helena stared at her for a moment with that guilty expression, and then she moved to Myka’s side and wrapped her arms around Myka, holding her tightly.

 

“I do feel guilty,” she whispered.

 

“You shouldn’t,” Myka replied, holding Helena tightly in their awkward position.

 

She rested her head on Helena’s shoulder, breathing in, enjoying the scent of her hair.

 

“Is that my shampoo?” she asked, smiling.

 

“Yes,” Helena chuckled. “I didn’t have time to go home. And your hair always smells so nice.”

 

Myka squeezed her again and then let go, drawing back.

 

“Get back to work, Dr Wells. I have a lot to do. I’ll see you tomorrow. Give me a call any time you want me to look after Christina, okay?”

 

She smiled as Helena stood up uncertainly.

 

“Are we okay?”

 

Myka nodded.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

 

And she was gone. Myka closed the door behind Helena’s retreating figure and sat down, putting her head on the desk. They might be okay, but Myka was not. Myka was madly in love and last night had just made it worse. There was no going back, not now. But she had chosen to let last night happen, even though she knew how difficult it would make things, so she allowed herself a few tears and then turned to her paperwork, picking up where she had left off before Helena arrived in her office. 

 

The next few weeks were business as usual, for Myka at least. It was exam time and that meant long hours spent in her office or invigilating. She didn’t have much time or energy to expend on thinking about Helena. She barely saw the woman, apart from at a distance, occasionally. Helena had her own students, her own examinations, her own marking. And her own daughter. The Caretakers didn’t play during examinations - the union was practically deserted at this time of year. Myka was too busy to arrange what to do after the exams were finished – that meant Christmas time, which meant her parents would want her to come home. She’d already missed Thanksgiving – the exams had coincided nicely with that – but she didn’t have an excuse for Christmas. She found herself wishing that she actually had a family she _wanted_ to spend time with. Helena might have broken up with Giselle, but she still had Christina and Charles, and from the little time she’d spent with them all, they seemed like the kind of family Myka would have envied as a child. Myka’s childhood home was filled with silence and tension and that feeling in your gut when you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Her sister Tracy’s childhood had been very different to Myka’s – she was the golden child. Myka never really worked out why her dad treated her the way he did, but as a child she had decided that it was probably her fault, that something about her was bad and wrong. She spent her years in the Bering household filled with shame and guilt and fear. Looking back, she still couldn’t be sure what it was about her that enraged Warren Bering so, but she was also quite sure that she’d never done anything to invite his ire. She was hardworking, quiet, did everything she was asked and never talked back, not once. She sighed as she tried to think of an excuse for missing another excruciating Christmas and New Year with her parents and Tracy and her husband.

 

Her salvation came in the form of Rebecca Martino. She got a phone call during one of the exams, which she noted only as a vibration on her hip because she was busy keeping her eye on a student at the back of the hall who she was sure was trying to cheat. (She never did catch him at anything, but it came as no surprise to her when she heard that he was marched out of the music theory examination the following week with a mobile phone concealed in his underpants on which he had been receiving the answers from an unnamed third party.)

 

Myka listened to Rebecca’s message after the students had filed out of the hall at the end of the three hour exam. She called her back straight away, and Becky asked her if she wanted to spend Christmas day with her and Jack. Their other son, Andrew, had been called away to a conference in Australia. He was a doctor and he’d been offered a prestigious speaking engagement at a conference that he couldn’t really turn down.

 

“I hate to ask, Myka. But I just know I’m going to miss the boys so much. And you know Jack – he’d never say anything, but I know he’s gutted about Andy. If you were here I think it would give us all something else to think about other than who’s not here.”

 

Myka thought for a moment. She could definitely use this as a valid excuse – even her dad couldn’t argue with her spending the holidays with her husband’s family. And more than that, she _wanted_ to spend the time with Jack and Becky. They were much more of a family to her than her own had ever been.

 

“I would love to, Rebecca. You may have just saved my life, actually. I thought I was going to have to go to my parents’ for Christmas.”

 

Becky made a disparaging noise on the other end of the phone. She was well aware of how difficult Myka’s childhood had been, and she had expressed her opinion on both Warren and Jean Bering’s behaviour on more than one occasion. She knew a surprising variety of swear words.

 

“Okay love, well that’s settled then. I’m so glad you’re coming. I’ll let you know times nearer to the day.”

 

“Looking forward to it,” Myka said, and then they ended the call. She smiled as she thought of spending a Christmas day with Jack and Becky – having a pleasant, warm family Christmas rather than a lukewarm meal in the frigid atmosphere of her parents’ apartment.

 

She turned around and was presented with the vision of Helena Wells, all in black, smiling at her.

 

“Hi, Myka. You look happy,” Helena said, head tilted quizzically.

 

“Oh, hey, Helena,” Myka said, still smiling. “I didn’t see you come in, sorry. I am happy, actually. I just got an invite from Sam’s parents for Christmas, which means I don’t have to go home to Colorado. I really, really didn’t want to spend the holidays with my parents. Or alone,” she said thoughtfully.

 

Helena’s face fell slightly.

 

“Oh.”

 

Myka looked at her in concern.

 

“What’s the matter?”

 

“Well. I was just coming to invite you to spend Christmas day with Christina, Charles and I. But I see I have been pipped at the post by the Martinos. Never mind!” she said brightly.

 

“Oh,” Myka said. She was a little upset herself, now, too. She would have loved to spend the holidays with Helena and Christina.

 

“I’m sorry. I would have loved that,” she said, sadly.

 

Helena was looking anywhere but at Myka.

 

“Hey,” Myka said softly, moving closer, “I really mean that. I love your kid, she’s awesome. And Charles is a terrible flirt but I could have put up with that,” Myka smiled, tilting her head to try and catch Helena’s gaze.

 

Helena looked up.

 

“Really?”

 

“Of course!”

 

“Well in that case, what about Boxing Day? We don’t make as much of a fuss but it would be lovely to have you there.”

 

Myka grinned.

 

“I would love to.”

 

“Great.” Helena’s grin was bright enough to light several neighbouring buildings.

 

They wandered back towards Helena’s office (via the cafeteria with its awful coffee) and fell into their normal routine of chatting about everything and nothing, and for a while things felt normal. Until Myka spilled some coffee on her hand and licked it off, quite innocently. Helena fell silent, and when Myka looked up she was staring, her eyes dark and her bottom lip caught in her teeth. Myka’s heart stuttered for a moment. She _knew_ that look, and it was all she could do to hold herself back. She took a deep breath, her eyes on Helena’s. Helena visibly steeled herself and then looked away. There was an awkward silence, and after a beat or two, Myka decided to go before she did or said anything irreversible. She finished her terrible coffee and stood. Helena looked up at her, eyes dark and somehow fiery at the same time. Myka gestured at the door awkwardly.

 

“I should go.”

 

“Yes. That would probably be wise,” Helena said, her eyes never leaving Myka’s.

 

Something in her eyes, something predatory and terrifying, but in the best possible way, made Myka want to take a step back and a step forward simultaneously. Because, tall as she was, Myka towered over Helena in her chair, and she couldn’t help but think about another time when she was towering over Helena against the door in her flat, gripping the top of the door sill convulsively.  

 

“What would happen,” Myka asked, conversationally, “if I were to kiss you now?”

 

Helena was still staring, looking almost demure with her hands folded in her lap. But as Myka spoke her breath became more of a gasp, just for a second.

  
“I think some very pleasant and very unprofessional things would happen. I think that Claudia would be very upset with me. And I think that I would probably hurt a friend.”

 

Myka looked down at her regretfully.

 

“Thank you for being honest,” was all she said, before leaving the office and closing the door behind her.

 

She made it to her office before she started crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I made Myka cry at the end of a chapter again. I'm sorry. But it will get better, I promise.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas arrives and there is an unexpected development in Myka and Helena's relationship

* * *

 

Two weeks later, it was Christmas Eve. She was at Pete and Steve’s apartment drinking eggnog. Steve had already gone for Christmas, to spend the holiday with his family in Leicester. Pete was drinking something that he described as eggnog with less nog and more egg. It looked disgusting, like custard and bogeys, and Myka didn’t care to enquire any further as to the contents.

 

“So, how are you doing, Miss StudMuffin 2014? Any more action with you and teacher?”

 

“No. I haven’t seen her,” Myka said thoughtfully. “I have been avoiding her, actually. Since we talked last time, and I asked what would happen if I kissed her.”

 

Pete looked at her sympathetically. He was on the floor leaning against the couch, and she was lying full length on said couch, her legs overhanging the end. She was drinking her eggnog with the aid of a straw to combat the difficulties of drinking while lying down. The straw was stripy, because Pete knew she liked stripy things, and he was trying to cheer her up. Myka thought Pete was awesome.

 

“Things will work out.”

 

“I don’t think so, Pete. I think that she wants me, yeah. But I don’t think she has feelings for me, not like that. I think she just cares for me as a friend. It hurts, but I’ll get over it.”

 

He gave her a look.

 

“You’re crazy, Mykes. I see the way she looks at you. I think you just need to give it time. She just broke up with the wicked witch, like, five minutes ago.”

 

Pete passed her a deep-fried something or another that he’d just brought from the kitchen. Myka popped it into her mouth, still brooding about Helena.

 

“Do you think I should cancel for Boxing Day? Say I’m sick, or something?”

 

Pete shook his head.

 

“I think that the last thing you want to do right now is to disappoint Christina. Both because you are a nice person and because it will probably mean that Helena will never forgive you.”

 

“That’s a very good point. What is this that you’re feeding me? It’s delicious.”

 

“I knew you’d like that. After your first few nogs, anyway. It’s deep fried mars bar. A guy in the orchestra gave me the recipe. He’s from Glasgow. It’s a delicacy up there, apparently.”

 

Myka giggled. Perhaps she had drunk a few too many nogs. It was just as well she was walking home.

 

Pete walked her home and kissed her on the cheek as they stood on the pavement outside her apartment.

 

“Merry Christmas, Mykes. Say hi to Becky and Jack for me.”

 

“I will. Merry Christmas, Pete. Say Merry Christmas to Amanda from me.”

 

***

 

Christmas Day dawned and it was not, as the postcards would have one believe, snowy and crisp and beautiful. It was, rather, damp and drizzly and just as dreary as everyone had warned her Manchester would be. She wasn’t really bothered, though. The fact that she was away from her parents was enough. It could be a screaming blizzard outside and she’d probably still smile.

 

She finished wrapping the presents she’d bought for Jack and Rebecca – a DVD of Jack’s favourite comedian and a bottle of Rebecca’s favourite perfume – and made the drive over to their house. As soon as she stepped inside, she relaxed. The house smelled like good food and Christmas and happiness. She was immediately enveloped in a huge hug by Jack, followed by a smaller but no less enthusiastic embrace from Rebecca. They exchanged gifts over a glass of Bailey’s and then ate. Dinner was gut-bustingly delicious. Myka fell asleep before dessert and when she woke up, Jack was smiling indulgently at her from his armchair.

 

“It’s so nice to have you here, sweetheart. Sam would be so glad to know that you still come here even after…” Jack said, his voice catching a little bit on his son’s name. Christmas was hard for them, Myka knew. It was hard for her too, for many reasons. Her family in Colorado, losing Sam, being alone. And this year, missing Helena.

 

“Did something happen? With Helena?” Jack asked, frowning slightly at Myka’s expression.

 

“Um…yeah. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say that something happened between us – after she broke up with her girlfriend, I might add – and she wasn’t ready for a relationship, so it was just a one-time thing. I think she feels something for me, I’m just not sure what. And unfortunately, what happened only made my feelings stronger.”

 

Rebecca leaned over and took Myka’s hand.

 

“I’m sorry, love. I’m sure she’ll come round. If she’s got any sense, that is.”        

 

“I hope you’re right.”

 

Jack and Becky continued to overfeed Myka until she finally had to admit defeat. They played Trivial Pursuit until the early hours of the morning, and then Myka went home, after many hugs and promises to come and see them again soon.

 

The next morning she was incredibly nervous. She had little reason to be, really, because she was going to be with Christina and Charles as well as Helena. If she was on her own with Helena – well, that would be a different matter. She dressed in a silly Christmas jumper someone had bought for her the year before – it may have been Leena – and a comfy pair of jeans. She also wore her glasses – for two reasons, the first being that she was completely exhausted and couldn’t be bothered with her contact lenses, and the second being that she thought she was much less attractive when she wore her glasses. So Helena would have no reason to be uncomfortable and think that Myka was coming on to her, after their awkward encounter in Helena’s office – another lapse in judgement for which Myka was berating herself endlessly.

*** 

When Helena opened the door just before midday, she was silent for an uncomfortable amount of time, from Myka’s perspective at least. After what felt like an hour of Helena staring at her without speaking, Myka spoke.

 

“Did you not mean it when you invited me? Or did I miss a message calling today off?”

 

“What?” Helena said, apparently completely confused.

 

“You’ve been staring at me for about a minute, Helena. Is everything okay?”

 

Helena seemed to come back to herself, then.

 

“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry, Myka. Come in, please.”

 

As Myka walked into the house ahead of her, Helena collapsed back against the door for a moment, groaning quietly. If Myka had been closer, she would have heard her say, _“Why did she have to wear her glasses?”_

 

Christina was overjoyed to see Myka, and she flung herself at high speed from the sofa to Myka, hitting her stomach with all the force one would expect from an exuberant 9-year old. Myka doubled over slightly, letting out a small noise that sounded like ‘oof’, which made Christina giggle.

 

“Merry Christmas, sweetie,” Myka managed, once she got her breath back.

 

“You too, Myka,” Christina said, squeezing her even more tightly.

 

Myka bent over to kiss the little girl’s head, and to hide the fact that there were tears in her eyes. She would never get used to the unselfconscious way that Christina expressed affection. It was so lovely to be around, to be on the receiving end of. It just showed that her childhood – Giselle aside – was filled with love, unlike Myka’s.

 

“So, did Santa bring you anything, young lady? Or did you just get coal?” Myka teased.

 

“I did not get coal!” Christina exclaimed, frowning fiercely. Then she pulled Myka over to the Christmas tree to show her the truly impressive haul of presents she had received from Santa. Myka listened carefully to the little girl’s explanation of each present and who it was from, and then asked if she’d seen Myka’s present. Christina pulled the cutest quizzical expression, and Myka pointed at an area near the back of the tree.

 

“Isn’t that it, over there?” she asked.

 

When Christina turned to look, she pulled the wrapped book from behind her back and put it in front of Christina. When the little girl turned round, she was unimpressed at the trickery, but only for so long as it took her to realise that she had another present. It was another Tamora Pierce story; one that Myka had already cleared with Helena as being suitable for Christina. The girl’s squeal of delight was deafening. She began reading it immediately, become absorbed straight away and leaving Myka sitting on the floor beside her and the pile of presents.

 

“Kids,” Myka said to herself, shaking her head. She looked up and Helena was watching her with that strange expression on her face again. Myka raised an eyebrow.

 

“Everything okay there, Dr Wells?” she asked.

 

“Yes, of course. Sorry.”

 

Myka lifted herself off the floor with a groan and moved to the sofa.

 

“Where’s Charles?” she asked a still-staring Helena.

 

“Bit of a hangover – he’ll be up shortly. He’s in the guest room,” Helena said.

 

Myka looked at her. Helena had such a strange look on her face.

 

“Hey,” Myka said softly, “is everything okay? You seem distracted. I can head home if you want – I don’t want to intrude. I’m sure Christina won’t notice – at least until she finishes her book, anyway.”

 

Helena shook her head.

 

“No, of course not, Myka. I invited you because we want you here. I’m sorry. It’s just…” she trailed off, obviously upset.

 

“Hey. Come on, Helena. Let me get you some tea.”

 

Myka walked through to the kitchen and put the kettle on, grabbing cups and teabags and sugar and milk as she went. She turned around and Helena was standing in the kitchen doorway watching her.

 

“How did you remember where everything was?” she asked, momentarily distracted from whatever was upsetting her.

 

“I have an eidetic memory, Helena. I thought you knew that,” Myka said as she fixed two cups of tea.

 

“I’m not sure I did know that, actually. That must be helpful.”

 

“I’m not sure I would characterise it that way, exactly,” Myka said, bringing the tea over to the small table and sitting down. “It means never forgetting anything, which brings its own set of problems. There are plenty of things I would like to forget.” She stared into her tea for a moment. “But I didn’t ever really need to study for exams. I did it anyway, because my dad insisted, but I didn’t need to. And I don’t need to carry around sheet music – not for me, at least. Once I’ve seen it, I know it.”

 

“That does sound like an advantage. Why didn’t you become a performer, rather than a teacher? I’ve heard you play; you are more than good enough,” Helena asked curiously, taking a sip of her tea.

 

“I didn’t enjoy it. I did it for a couple of years after I finished my degree, and I built a bit of a reputation as a classical guitarist. But I’m just not cut out for performing in front of people. I enjoyed studio work a lot more, because I didn’t have to perform in front of an audience. But teaching was the thing that really interested me, and when Pete told about this post, especially because it was so far away, I was sold.”

 

Helena looked at her sympathetically.

 

“You really didn’t have a good time at home, did you?”

 

Myka shook her head, avoiding Helena’s eyes.

 

“So, what’s going on, Helena? You don’t seem like yourself. Is it what happened with us? Is it too awkward? Because really, I can go. I don’t mind.”

 

Helena put her hand on Myka’s arm lightly.

 

“It’s not you, Myka. It’s my first Christmas without Giselle, and while I’m not sorry to see the back of her in the circumstances, I am upset. Because all this time she has been treating Christina the way she has, and I didn’t even notice. And she obviously didn’t really want to be with me either, because she has been cheating on me for God knows how long. I just…I saw how you were with Christina just now, and I…I wish that she had that growing up. I mean that because I was so bloody blind, I have deprived her of the experience of having two parents who loved her.”

 

Myka breathed out softly. She wasn’t going to read into that too much, because Helena was upset and hurt and confused.

 

“Christina is fine, Helena. She’s a smart, resilient kid. And she has had you all this time, loving her. That’s more than a lot of kids get.”

 

Helena looked at her, her eyes seeing probably more than Myka would have liked her to.

 

“I’m sorry, Myka. Your parents were fools if they couldn’t see what a wonderful person you are.”

 

Myka’s eyes filled with tears, and she brushed them away angrily. Helena squeezed her arm.

 

“So. What did Santa Claus bring you, Myka?” she asked, brightly.

 

They chatted about presents and inconsequential things for a while over tea while Christina sat on the floor in the living room, quite lost in her book. Charles appeared eventually, looking very much like a bearded version of Joseph Fiennes. He kissed Myka’s cheek, flirting outrageously even though he was still more than half-asleep. He was impeccably dressed in trousers and shirt, however, as usual. The Wellses never had a hair out of place, so far as Myka could tell, even when they woke up in the morning. That thought took her to places her mind was trying to avoid and she turned her attention with an effort to whatever Charles was talking about. A business he was planning to buy somewhere near Birmingham. Helena was expressing her disgust with anything to do with Birmingham, apparently because of the accent. Myka accused her of being a snob. The conversation degenerated into good natured heckling, and Christina was finally roused from her reading to come in and find out what all the fuss was about. The day went by quickly, with a pleasant dinner cooked by Charles and a long game of Monopoly which was won by Charles, with Christina coming a close second. Myka loved every minute of it, and was trying hard not to get used to the feeling of being here, being with this family, with the woman that she loved. It was a special kind of torture – a picture of an alternate universe where Myka had everything that she wanted, but a universe that was just beyond her reach. She could have cried, however, when Christina insisted that Myka put her to bed and she turned to check it was okay with Helena, only to see tears in Helena’s eyes. She stepped closer to Helena and asked in a low voice if she was okay.

 

“I’m fine. It’s fine, Myka. It’s just…what we talked about before. Please, go. Read to her. I’m sorry.”

 

Myka squeezed her hand and went upstairs to read Christina a story.

 

Christina fell asleep leaning against Myka’s side, and Myka was trying to figure out a way to extricate herself without waking her when she looked up to see Helena watching her from the doorway.

 

“She does that on purpose, you know,” Helena said, in a low voice. “She wants you to cuddle with her. She used to do it when she was little – she would hold on to my leg or my arm and fall asleep so I couldn’t leave. She hasn’t done it for a long time. She really likes you.” The look in her eyes was sad and wistful. Myka’s heart twisted. She gently moved the little girl, careful not to wake her, and wrapped her up in her duvet. She switched off the lamp and stepped out of the room carefully, following Helena downstairs.

 

When they reached the living room, Charles was gone.

 

“He had to go back to his office – some sort of crisis in Japan, I think he said. He apologises for not saying goodbye,” Helena said, sitting in the armchair. Myka froze where she was. Her safety blanket for today was Charles and Christina, and now neither of them were here.

 

“Relax, Myka,” Helena said, frowning a little. “If it seems that anything untoward is going to happen, I shall bundle you out the door.”

 

Myka eyed her uncertainly. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be here alone with Helena. Well, she was damn sure she _did_ , truth be told, but she wanted to be alone with her in exactly those untoward circumstances that Helena had mentioned.

 

“You can go, if you want, Myka,” Helena said heavily. “I am sorry I have allowed my moment of weakness to damage our friendship.”

 

But she suddenly looked small and sad and Myka was _screwed_. Because she couldn’t say no to Helena; that was the problem. She sat down and picked up the glass of wine she’d been drinking, offering Helena a silent toast. Helena turned on the television and they sat in companionable silence for a while, watching a two year old Christmas special of Little Britain.

 

“They always show repeats, why is that?” Helena mused aloud.

 

“I guess paying for new content would mean lower profits. And we’re still watching it, so it would appear that their business model is working out pretty well for them,” Myka said, lightly. Helena flashed her a devastating smile. Damn, but the woman was sexy. Myka took another drink from her glass.

 

They watched the end of the show and then decided on a fairly new film that was just starting. By the time it finished, Myka had been asleep for about an hour, she calculated as she opened her eyes and checked her watch. It was late. She looked up to find Helena watching her from the armchair.

 

“Hey,” she said, a little hoarsely.

 

“Hey, yourself,” Helena said, giving her an easy smile that made Myka’s stomach turn over. It was definitely time to go.

 

“You can stay, you know. Charles is very good, he changes the bedding as soon as he gets up. He says it’s the least he can do.”

 

Myka shook her head.

 

“Thanks, but I don’t think that’s the best idea. I’ll get a cab home. I drank a little too much to drive home.” She stood up, picking up her phone and wallet.

 

Helena looked at her for a long moment, eyes unfathomable.

 

“I am sorry, you know. If we hadn’t…you would have stayed, before.”

 

“I would. But things were different, then. And like I said, you have nothing to be sorry for. I was there too. I made the decision to spend the night with you.”

 

“And I shouldn’t have asked.”

 

“Maybe not. But we did what we did, and nothing will change that now. And much as I think we would both enjoy a repeat performance, I think it would be the end of us being friends. And I don’t want that. I care about you a lot and I don’t want to lose you, Helena.”

 

“I don’t want to lose you either, Myka.”

 

How they went from there to Helena’s bed, Myka wasn’t sure. Her eidetic memory, for once, was hazy on the details. But she was sure that Helena’s dark eyes had something to do with it. And that smile. And the way Helena bit her lip when she said she didn’t want to lose Myka. She wasn’t sure who moved first, but she was pretty clear after a moment that no cab would be called. She was fairly clear on that fact because Helena’s hands were in her pants about a second after her own name left Helena’s lips. And because her own hands were in Helena’s hair, and Helena’s bottom lip was in a bruising grip between Myka’s teeth. And because Helena took her, once again, against a door.

 

The next morning, things were complicated. When Myka woke up in Helena’s bed, she was alone. And she could hear Christina and Helena talking downstairs. She groaned. This was not good. Not only had they fucked like horny teenagers for most of the night, again, but now she was in Helena’s bed and Helena’s daughter was downstairs. And she knew that Helena didn’t want a relationship with her, that this was just sex. She resisted the urge to scream as she once again found herself in the situation of a morning after with Helena. She briefly considered an attempt at sneaking out, but she wasn’t the stealthiest at the best of times, so it didn’t seem overly likely to succeed. Instead, she went to the bathroom and showered, re-dressing in her clothes from the day before. Coming downstairs smelling like sex and wine didn’t seem like the best start to the day when she was dealing with Helena’s nine-year old daughter.

 

She felt a little better after her shower, but she was still uncertain about what to do when she left the bathroom. She was dressed and she had her belongings, so she squared her shoulders and went downstairs.

 

“Morning, Myka,” Christina said distractedly as she contemplated a large Lego creation that she was constructing in the middle of the living room.

 

“Hey, Christina,” Myka said, feeling a little lost.

 

Helena came in from the kitchen and handed Myka a cup of tea.

 

“Good morning, Myka,” she said, brightly. “We’re just constructing something from Star Wars, I believe. What is it, Christina?”

 

“The Millenium Falcon, mum,” Christina said, with a long-suffering sigh and an eye roll as she continued in her construction.

 

“How silly of me,” Helena murmured. She indicated for Myka to follow her to the kitchen.

 

Myka sat at the table, sipping her tea. Helena came to sit with her and took her hand.

 

“Did you sleep okay?” she asked, rubbing her fingers across Myka’s knuckles.

 

Myka took a deep breath. Helena’s hand in hers felt so good, it was intensely distracting.

 

“Yes, I did. I was a little tired, for some reason,” she said with a wry smile.

 

Helena smiled softly.

 

“As was I. I suppose we should talk, shouldn’t we?”

 

Myka looked at her uncertainly. What was there to talk about? Helena had made herself clear the last time, and this wasn’t supposed to happen again.

 

“I don’t know, Helena.”

 

Helena turned Myka’s hand over in her own and stroked the palm softly with her index finger. Myka shivered.

 

“Let me rephrase that. I think we should talk. I have something to say.”

 

“Okay…” Myka said.

 

“I think…I would like to take you on a date. It seems a little redundant, in a way, since we’ve already done…well, you were there…”

 

Myka’s mouth dropped open.

 

“What?”

 

“I said, I would like to take you on a date. Was I speaking another language?” Helena asked, teasingly.

 

“I thought...with Giselle and everything. You didn’t want…this.”

 

“Well, whatever I said, it appears that I can’t resist this. I can’t resist _you_.”

 

Myka’s heart leapt.

 

“Are you sure about this, Helena? Because I don’t think my heart can take it if you don’t mean it.”

 

“Myka. I want you, fiercely.”

 

Something low in Myka’s belly twisted.

 

“And not only that, I care about you, a great deal. A lot. I think I might even…” Myka’s hand on her mouth interrupted what Helena was about to say.

 

“No. Don’t say that, Helena. Not unless you mean it. Not unless you know. Please.”

 

Helena stared at her for a moment, and then deliberately bit down on Myka’s palm where it rested against her mouth. Myka moved her hand away after a moment, trying not to leap onto Helena’s lap and beg to be taken right there.

 

Helena continued, her eyes on Myka’s.

 

“Fair enough. But I think it is in our interests to explore whatever this is between us. Because I think that we probably went far past the point, last night, where it would be reasonable for us to continue being just friends. Don’t you?”

 

Myka just stared.

 

“You were going to say that, when you came downstairs. That you didn’t think we could be friends any more. Weren’t you?”

 

Myka nodded, her eyes on Helena’s.

 

“I can’t accept that, Myka. I don’t want to think about you not being in my life. And last night…it was incredible. _You_ are incredible. So please, will you go on a date with me, Myka Bering?”

 

Myka nodded, dumbly. Helena leaned over and kissed her softly, just once, and then beamed at her.

 

She spent most of the rest of the day with Helena and Christina, helping the youngest Wells to construct her Millenium Falcon from Lego. By mid-afternoon, though, she was exhausted.

 

“Ladies, I think I’m gonna have to head home. I need some sleep. You Wells girls have stolen all my energy,” she said dramatically.

 

“Old people,” Christina said disparagingly.

 

“Oi, you. Less of that. You’ll be as old as us one day, and then you’ll know all about it, young lady,” Myka said, tickling the girl mercilessly until she apologised.

 

“Are you sure, Myka?” Helena asked, looking a little disappointed.

 

“Well, I am going to be asleep soon, and unless you want to listen to me snoring, I think it would be a good idea for me to get back to my own place before that happens.”

 

She smiled softly at Helena, who grinned back.

 

“I don’t suppose any of us need to listen to that, now do we?” she said, with a haughty expression. Christina shook her head solemnly and Myka gave them both a mock glare.

 

She gave Christina a hug goodbye, and the distracted little girl went right back to her Lego. Helena saw her to the door.

 

“Thanks for having me over,” Myka said, smiling.

 

“No, thank you. For being so amazing with Christina.”

 

They smiled at each other in silence for a moment, and then Helena, after a quick look over her shoulder to make sure Christina was still safely ensconced in the living room with her Lego, leaned over to kiss Myka extremely thoroughly. Myka was left breathless and dazed.

 

“Are you sure you won’t stay?” Helena asked, a mischievous smirk on her face.

 

“Uh…I’m sure I want to. But I don’t put out before the first date,” Myka smiled.

 

“Unless I am very much mistaken, my dear Myka, you did indeed put out before the first date.”

 

“Well, that was before I knew there was going to be a first date, so…” Myka smiled.

 

“It’s all your fault, you know,” Helena said, suddenly serious.

 

“What?” Myka asked, her head tilted in concern.

 

“I could have resisted you. I was fine, until you showed up wearing that ridiculous jumper and wearing your glasses,” Helena said, with a half-smile on her face.

 

“My glasses? Why? I wore them on purpose, so you would know I wasn’t trying to…you know, after your office a few weeks ago. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to push you into anything. So I wore my most dorky sweater and my glasses.”

 

“Well, then, my dear, you have failed miserably. Because I can’t resist you when you look so adorable.”

 

Helena kissed her again.

 

“Now, if you want to get out of here, you had better go, because if you continue to stand there looking like that, I will not be held responsible for my actions,” Helena said in a growl.

 

Myka backed away, her hands held up in surrender.

 

“I’m going. See you soon, Dr Wells.”

 

When she got home, Myka slept straight through to the next morning. It wasn’t surprising, considering how little sleep she’d actually managed the night before. When she woke, she had a text message from Helena.

 

_Date night tonight? If you’re not busy? Hx_

Myka smiled, a smile that she would have been embarrassed for another human to see, it was so wide.

 

_That depends, Dr Wells. Do you expect a girl to put out on the first date?_

The reply took only a minute.

 

_I should bloody hope so, because I arranged for Christina to stay with Charles._

Myka laughed.

 

_Should I not have said that?_

She laughed even harder.

 

_Relax. I have every intention of persuading **you** to put out on the first date. Should I wear my glasses?_

She went to get in the shower, but before she stepped in, her phone beeped at her.

 

_Only if you don’t want to get past the first course._

Myka grinned and sent a quick reply.

 

_Getting in the shower now. Get your mind out of the gutter, Dr Wells. See you tonight._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A first date, some backstory, and some of Helena's internal musings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the lovely Splendonia, my occasional beta, on this momentous day. Have a great day, dude :)

* * *

 

Helena picked her up at 7 and they headed to a restaurant called Velvet in the Manchester gay village. Myka didn’t realise when she moved here that Manchester and Salford were so close, and she was surprised at the size of the gay village and the gay scene here. Velvet was a small underground restaurant that served really good food. Myka had been here a few times with Pete, who had a black belt in restaurants. It hadn’t, however, been this romantic with Pete. Or at all.

 

“So, is this place all right for you?” Helena asked, uncharacteristically nervous.

 

Myka nodded happily. The idea of being out on a date with Helena was wonderful. She would have been happy in KFC. That it was such a nice place was just the icing on the extremely hot English cake. Helena smiled at her and then turned to her menu. She ordered, as Myka thought she would, a fillet steak, medium rare. Myka ordered monkfish.

 

Helena took her hand.

 

“I can’t believe I’m here, with you,” she said, looking a little dazed.

 

“ _You_ can’t believe it? Are you kidding me? I thought we would never get here. Especially after what happened before,” Myka said, taking a sip of her wine.

 

“Which part?” Helena asked, “When we had incredible, hot sex all night in your apartment, or when we had incredible, hot sex all night at my house?”

 

“Either,” Myka said, truthfully. Her breath quickened a little.

 

“You are incredible, Myka,” Helena said.

 

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Myka said, nodding.

 

“Oh, shut up. I mean it. You are. You might not realise it, but I do. And I’m not the only one.”

 

Myka laughed.

 

“Like who?”

 

“Half your students are in love with you, Myka. Mr Weaver is only the rather unpleasant tip of that particular iceberg. And half the staff too!”

 

Myka dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

 

“Did Professor Nielsen say something to you? Because I have had a crush on him for the longest time…”

 

Helena swatted her arm.

 

“You are ridiculous, Myka. If you don’t even know how amazing you are, there is no helping you, I’m afraid.”

 

“Well, maybe if you tell me enough times, it might sink in,” Myka said lightly.

 

Helena looked at her intently.

 

“Perhaps I will.”

 

They talked about their studies, their families – things that they both knew bits about, but not the full story. Helena didn’t realise that Myka had grown up in a bookstore, and Myka wasn’t aware of just how rich Helena’s family were. They owned half of Kent, apparently. The real surprise was when she asked Helena to finally tell her about her previous career in songwriting.

 

Helena ducked her head nervously.

 

“Are you sure you want to know?”

 

Myka eyed her curiously.

 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

 

“Well, it has to do with Christina’s father, actually. And it’s been a while since I’ve been on a date, but I believe it’s bad form to talk about exes on a first date.”

 

“I think, since we’ve known each other for a while, we can probably let that rule slide,” Myka said. “But if you’re uncomfortable talking about it, that’s fine.”

 

“Well, it’s not particularly pleasant to revisit, but it is my past, so…”

 

Myka took her hand and squeezed it for a moment, comfortingly. Then she remembered that they were actually on a date, and she could hold Helena’s hand, could touch her the way had she always wanted to. She ran her thumb over Helena’s knuckles, enjoying the feeling of the warm skin under her fingers. She was so intent on the feeling that she was startled when she heard Helena chuckle.

 

“Sorry. I guess I got a little distracted,” Myka said, blushing slightly.

 

“That’s quite all right. You’re quite the distraction yourself,” Helena said, bringing Myka’s hand to her lips and kissing the knuckles.

 

“So, Christina’s father, then? You don’t have to tell me, but I would like to know, sometime,” Myka said, smiling.

 

“Well, you may have heard of him. In fact I am certain you will have. Marcus Diamond. My ex-husband, Christina’s father.”

 

Myka stared at her, open-mouthed.

 

“Marcus Diamond. _The_ Marcus Diamond?”

 

“Yes. I’m afraid so.”

 

Myka thought for a moment. This was clearly not a good thing. Helena’s face was tight, and her grip on Myka’s hand was almost crushing.

 

“Wait…didn’t he get arrested for…holy shit, that was you?”

 

Helena nodded, her eyes downcast.

 

Marcus Diamond had been arrested approximately 10 years previous for domestic abuse. His wife was pregnant and he’d beaten her half to death after an argument. His wife had only survived because a neighbour had intervened and held Marcus off until the police arrived.

 

“Jesus. I’m so sorry, Helena. I had no idea.”

 

“It’s okay, Myka. I just don’t like to talk about it, for obvious reasons.”

 

Myka nodded. Her mind was racing, and her veins felt as if they were filled with molten lava. That someone – that _anyone_ would dare hurt this incredible woman, never mind her unborn child? Myka’s fists clenched unconsciously.  

 

“So you were pregnant with Christina. And he…”

 

“Yes. Christina was a bit of a miracle, all told. She could so easily have died.”

 

“How long did he spend in jail?” Myka asked, still a little stunned.

 

“Eight years. He was released about a year and a half ago. I probably would have spoken to you about it then, but then…”

 

“Sam died,” Myka finished for her.

 

“Yes. So you had your own problems to deal with, and I didn’t wish to burden you with mine. In any case, Marcus hasn’t contacted me since he was released, and he has a permanent court order that forbids him from approaching me or any member of my family at any time.”

 

Myka didn’t say anything. She didn’t quite know what to say. She couldn’t believe that something that awful had happened to Helena. The pictures of what Marcus had done to her were all over the news for weeks - until the next scandal came along. The pictures looked nothing like this beautiful, strong and vibrant woman opposite her.

 

“You don’t have to say anything, Myka. I know it’s a lot to take in.”

 

“It is. I can’t believe you went through that. I’m so sorry.”

 

She leaned over and kissed Helena softly. Helena leaned in to her, resting her head on Myka’s shoulder for a moment.

 

“It’s over, Myka. It was a long time ago. And I have Christina. It wasn’t all bad.”

 

“I guess.”

 

Myka drew back to look at Helena as a thought struck her.

 

“I was asking you about your songwriting. So does that mean you wrote his songs?”

 

Helena nodded.

 

“All of them?”

 

Another nod.

 

“Holy shit! I can’t believe that you wrote his songs. He was so famous. His music – I mean, he was doing sold out world tours. And you wrote all of it? Wow.”

 

It really _was_ impressive. Myka knew she was staring, but the music that Marcus Diamond had produced – complete scum of the earth though he had showed himself to be – it was incredible. His songs were awe inspiring. And Helena had written them.

 

“HG Wells. That was the songwriting credit on his albums. My mom had a few of them. I remember laughing at the name.”

 

“Yes. That would be me,” Helena smiled.

 

“And the G?”

 

Helena laughed.

 

“You’ll have to buy me a few more drinks before I let that one slip.”

 

“Done.”

 

Their conversation over the rest of the evening was a little less serious. They talked about books, music, Christina, and eventually, Myka’s family.

 

“So what is the story, then, with your family? You never want to spend time in Colorado. Was it so very awful?” Helena asked, sympathetically. They had finished dinner and were halfway through dessert.

 

“There’s not much to tell, really. My father is an unpleasant man, and for some reason he took a dislike to me early on. I never really worked out why. I have always worked hard at my studies and my music. My sister, Tracy, is a little younger, and she was his favourite. He treated her like she was perfect. But I could never do anything right. I got perfect grades, I never caused trouble. But it was never good enough. Once I was old enough, I realised it never would be, and that it was really nothing to do with me, whatever his problem was. I hate going back because I’m used to being treated like a human being now – like I’m worth something. Going back there – I feel like I’m being beaten back down to how I used to be. I can’t really explain it any better than that.”

 

Helena’s eyes were dark.

 

“I’m so sorry, darling. I hate that parents treat their children that way. It infuriates me.”

 

“You know, I was envious, when I was younger, when I saw a happy family. I wanted what they had. I am so glad that Christina has you.”

 

Helena’s face darkened a little more.

 

“Yes, well. I screwed that up good and proper with Giselle, didn’t I? Anything could have happened to my daughter because that bitch didn’t even have the normal human decency to ensure her safety.”

 

Myka shook her head.

 

“Helena, that was not your fault. She was obviously very good at manipulating people.”

 

“Yes. She was. I never saw it. I don’t know how.”

 

“Well, Christina seems to have come through it relatively unscathed. She’s sweet, and caring and smart. She’s a great kid.”

 

Helena smiled.

 

“She is, isn’t she? And she adores you. Last night she was sulking because you weren’t there to read to her. She has put your book to one side until you can read it to her again.”

 

Myka smiled.

 

“That’s so sweet. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that, the way kids are so loving and unselfconscious about it.”

 

“It won’t be long before she is a sulky teenager, so I would enjoy it while it lasts,” Helena said ruefully.

 

Myka grinned.

 

“Now that’s something to look forward to…”

 

Helena leaned forward and kissed her, rather suddenly, taking Myka by surprise.

 

“What was that for?”

 

“Your smile, Myka. You just…dazzle me sometimes.”

 

Myka didn’t say anything, just stared back, speechless.

 

“Are you ready to go?” Helena asked, her voice low.

 

Myka nodded, still silent. Helena paid their bill and they hailed a cab a little way down the road. As soon as they were in their seats, Helena leaned over and kissed Myka softly. Myka’s breath caught in her throat at the sheer tenderness of it. It was different from their previous kisses. They had come together almost violently before, and it was more about lust than anything else. This felt different.

 

“Are you okay with this? Coming back to mine?” Helena asked softly.

 

Myka shot her an incredulous look.

 

“Are you kidding?”

 

“Okay then,” Helena said with a smile.

 

The cab journey passed in silence. Their fingers were laced together between them, and for the first time since Sam’s death, Myka felt content. Not lonely, not sad, not any of the things she had felt since he passed.

 

When they reached the house, Myka half expected to be up against the door and naked in moments. But Helena led her on the couch and went to get them some wine. She came back in and sat next to Myka, passing her a glass before taking a sip from hers.

 

“So, how was our first date? Did I do okay, considering how out of practice I am?” Helena asked.

 

“Well, I’m hardly the dating expert here, Helena. I haven’t been on a date since Sam. But I think you did okay. There’s always room for improvement, though,” she said, considering.

 

“Oh, really. Just okay?”

 

Helena’s lips were suddenly right beside her ear, her breath tickling at the side of her neck. Myka shivered.

 

“Well, I could maybe upgrade you to ‘good effort’. If you’re very good.”

 

“And what would I need to do if I wanted to get a better grade, Ms Bering?”

 

Myka turned her head and smiled, her eyes on Helena’s.

 

“I think you could use your imagination and come up with the answer to that all by yourself, Dr Wells,” she whispered.

 

Helena’s lips were almost on hers, millimetres away. She searched Myka’s eyes and her lips twitched upwards in a half smirk.

 

“I think my imagination worked pretty well for you in your flat, Myka. And in this room just a few days ago. Wouldn’t you say?”

 

Myka’s eyes were closed and she was resisting the pull of Helena’s voice, of Helena’s breath on her skin. It was a game, this, and she didn’t want to give in by being the one to close the gap between their lips. Her breath was coming faster already as she thought of Helena’s mouth, the many and varied ways she had used it on Myka during their two nights together.

 

“I’m sorry Ms Bering, I didn’t hear your answer. I asked you if you were pleased with how I deployed my imagination just a few days ago. When I took you against the door, just over there. You might remember it, if you think back. I pushed you back against that door just there, and I opened your jeans and slid my hand inside your pants. Is this ringing any bells? No? What about that noise you made when I slipped my fingers inside you? I remember that, certainly. I remember how very wet you were, how your hips pushed against me, and your fingers were in my hair, and your tongue was in my mouth, tasting of wine…”

 

And Myka could take no more. She groaned and grabbed Helena’s hair roughly, and kissed the infuriatingly sexy woman. She moved to straddle Helena, and a low growl escaped her as Helena’s hands came up, slid under her skirt to cup her buttocks and squeeze, hard.

 

Helena’s hands began to roam and within moments Myka was crying out, her head thrown back with Helena’s mouth hot on her throat.

 

It took a few minutes, but when she could speak again, she bent over to whisper in Helena’s ear.

 

“You don’t play fair, Dr Wells.”

 

“I play to win…”

 

***

 

Helena lay next to a sleeping Myka Bering, watching her breathing as she slept. Helena hadn’t been able to sleep, for some reason. Given that Myka had completely worn her out, it was unusual. But she was quite happy to lie there, relaxed and enjoying the sight of the incredible woman sleeping next to her.

 

She was tired of pretending that she wasn’t in love with Myka. If she was entirely honest about it, she had probably been in love with her for at least a year. She had stayed with Giselle because she loved her and they were good together – or so she had thought – and they had Christina, their life together. But her feelings for Myka had been incredibly strong from the word go, and had only deepened with their growing friendship. She had watched Myka fall in love with Sam Martino, a young man who she didn’t particularly like, and she had supported her friend because Myka was happy, and she was with Giselle and she was loyal. But she didn’t enjoy watching Myka with Sam. That didn’t mean that she was happy when he died – she was devastated for her friend’s loss, and she knew how close Myka had come to leaving her life here and returning to Colorado. Helena had been steeling herself for a while now, preparing herself for Myka meeting someone new. The fact that they were here together now was something of a miracle, all things considered.

 

She hadn’t meant to cross the line with Myka. She was, truly, incensed when Myka didn’t tell her about Giselle leaving Christina the way she had. She thought Myka was withdrawing from her messy life, reluctant to become involved because she had a child. Claudia had given her a serious talking-to after she’d confronted Myka in her office, and rightly so, it would appear. Because Myka had only been trying to protect Helena. By telling Claudia and staying out of it, she was making sure that the message was passed on without her own agenda, because she was in love with Helena. Or at least that’s how Claudia put it. With a few more swear words, of course. But when Myka had rounded on her, eyes blazing, in the little corridor outside the bathrooms at the Union – Helena hadn’t been able to hold herself back. She had been hard put not to drag Myka into the bathrooms and take her right there. She was a little ashamed at her own lack of restraint, but she wasn’t sorry that this was the result.

 

Helena lay on her side with her hand under her head, eyes tracing the soft lines of Myka’s face as she slept. Myka was an open, honest and caring woman, and that first night so many years ago when she had spotted her at the Union, she had barely been able to keep her mind on the music. The band were playing well, as usual, and she was fully concentrated on the keys in front of her as they entered a particularly complicated passage - the middle eight of some jazzy piece that Leena liked – when her eyes were caught by the lean figure sitting at one of the front tables. Those tables were generally filled by staff; for some reason the students avoided the tables at the front, perhaps not wanting to get caught misbehaving right under her nose. So it was unusual for anyone that Helena didn’t recognise to sit there. When Myka turned round and faced the stage, Helena’s breath actually caught, an audible hitch, and she almost dropped a real clanger, just realising at the last second before she played the minor instead of the major chord. She hadn’t made a mistake like that since her own university days. The woman in front of her, however, was a bloody good reason for such a mistake. She looked slightly nervous, like she wasn’t entirely comfortable in her own skin, but she was incredibly beautiful, her hair wild and her eyes a bright green-grey. And her smile… Helena had been captivated straight away, and it appeared that the feeling was mutual, because Myka’s expression was dumbstruck as they stared at one another. After what was probably far too long, Helena forced herself to look away, but she couldn’t help herself from sneaking glances at the tall woman at various points during the evening. She noted with some displeasure that Sam Martino, one of the drum tutors, had seated himself with the newcomer, but she was inordinately pleased when she realised that the woman was paying little attention to her companion, choosing to spend her time watching the band and Helena. She felt guilty, afterwards, for thinking of anyone else in that way. It took the whole weekend for her to calm herself down about the whole thing and to remind herself that she was happy with Giselle. Which was just as well, because on Monday she realised that the woman from the Union was in fact her new hire from the US. To stop herself from doing something stupid, she had mentioned her partner almost immediately, and from Myka’s wry smile and that nervous gesture of hers, rubbing the back of her neck with her palm, it was clear that she understood the unspoken message. That she, Helena, was well aware of their chemistry, but she was taken and that was that. Myka had never once, after that day, given her any indication that she had any feelings for Helena outside of friendship. Or at least not until Helena was single and until Myka had been pushed into saying something. That Myka had been happy with just friendship from her was something for which Helena had been incredibly grateful. Because she truly _did_ love Giselle, and she wasn’t sure what she would have done, had Myka offered her any encouragement.

 

Luckily, Myka had never put her in that position. Helena had felt extremely lucky for a long time that she had Myka Bering as a friend. But now, with the woman in her bed, luck didn’t seem like a strong enough word. It wasn’t just that she was attractive. Anyone with eyes could see that; but it was everything about her that appealed to Helena. Her strength even after losing her husband, her intelligence, her gentle humour. Even her weaknesses were seductive to Helena. Her lack of self-confidence, her occasional bouts of depression – they just made Helena want to wrap herself around Myka and not let go.

 

The day when she knew she was in real trouble – the day when she’d probably fallen entirely in love with Myka – was when she’d first seen the woman interact with Christina. Christina was and would always be Helena’s first love, her first priority. Her saving grace after the horror of what Marcus had become, her daughter had brought her back to life. And the day she’d watched Myka reassure her little girl at that barbecue or garden party or whatever it had been, she’d felt her heart fill. It was as if someone had reached into her chest, attached a hose to her heart, and proceeded to pump it full of pure, unadulterated happiness. She’d been grateful that Giselle had been particularly demanding that day, because it meant that they left shortly afterwards and she hadn’t had time to speak to Myka. She was fairly sure that she couldn’t have stopped herself from blurting out something stupid that she couldn’t take back, otherwise.

 

The night Myka had looked after Christina for the first time had tipped things for Helena. If she was perfectly honest, she would probably have had to have a serious look at her relationship with Giselle at that point anyway, for not only had she started to have doubts about Giselle’s commitment to her and Christina, but her feelings for Myka had grown too strong to be ignored any longer. For a woman who was supposed to be in a fulfilling long term relationship with someone she loved, Helena was spending a hell of a lot of time thinking about someone else. First there had been that moment when Myka had touched her hand sympathetically in the kitchen and she’d almost lost control of herself. And watching Myka interact with Christina had brought a lump to her throat and a feeling that she didn’t want to name to her heart. Myka had tenderly comforted her daughter after Helena and Giselle’s fight – that much she had heard as she shamelessly eavesdropped on them – and afterwards, when Helena had changed for the gig and come downstairs, she found them both giggling at Horrible Histories together. She could probably count on one hand the amount of times she had witnessed Giselle actually interacting with Christina. Giselle spent time with Christina, yes – it was difficult not to when one was sharing a house with someone – but actually taking an interest, talking to her about things that interested her, reading, watching television with her? Virtually never. Watching Myka taking the time to do that, and seeing how much she was actually enjoying it – that had filled Helena with this incredible, bone-deep longing for things to be like that all the time. And since it was clear that things would never be like that with Giselle, she was uncomfortably aware that the longing she felt was for _Myka_ to be a part of her and Christina’s lives in a more intimate way.

 

She had wanted to talk to Claudia that night about it all, but Claudia was enmeshed in some man-drama with Steve and was listening with only half an ear. So she’d bottled it all up, a tactic that rarely worked well for Helena. She was aware that she was a teensy bit impulsive at times, and that she needed to think things through before acting on them. She felt lucky that Myka had been asleep when she got home that night. It had taken all of Helena’s self-control not to jump on her as soon as she got in the door. The time it took for Myka to wake up had been just long enough for Helena to calm down and cool off.

 

The following day Claudia had filled her in on her conversation with Myka and Giselle’s home alone antics. Which of course were entirely unfunny and could possibly be viewed as criminal neglect. But for some reason, Helena’s main feeling at that point was anger at Myka for not telling her directly. She had received a text message from Myka, coincidentally as Claudia was sitting in her office spilling the sorry tale, and Myka had simply said that she was going home and she hoped Helena was okay. Helena remembered clearly feeling this helpless anger at Myka that didn’t make any sense. Because the person she _should_ have been angry at was Giselle, not Myka. But she couldn’t help but feel that Myka had offered her a view of what could have been – a life with Myka as the parent that Christina deserved – and then taken it away because it was too messy. Claudia told her only that Myka didn’t want to get involved, but not why, and Helena had assumed that it was because she didn’t want the complication of a child to worry about. Her conversation with Myka the following Monday had only underlined that assumption. Myka had tried to explain herself, but Helena hadn’t wanted to listen. She was so hurt that she just shut herself off. Claudia told her off at length for not listening to Myka, and explained, eventually, why Myka didn’t want to get involved.

 

“You’re a complete fucking idiot, Helena. Seriously. She’s in love with you, you massive cock!”

 

Even for Claudia, that was excessive. Helena had stared at her, open-mouthed, for more than a minute before she’d been able to get a word out.

 

“What do you mean, she loves me?” she’d eventually choked out (since ignoring the ‘massive cock’ comment seemed the best idea at that point).

 

“Exactly what I said, you utter knob,” Claudia said, slightly mollified by Helena’s surprise. “She is in love with you, and that’s why she didn’t want to tell you this information that she knew would probably make you break up with your fucking girlfriend. So she told me, an impartial observer, sort of, so that I could decide whether it was something you needed to know. If she’d told you herself she would have always wondered if she’d made the right decision.”

 

They were in Helena’s living room, and Christina was in bed. Claudia was obviously really pissed off that Helena was being so harsh with Myka, and had held it in with some difficulty until after Christina was in bed.

 

“That girl loves you so much she can barely function. And still she waited to tell me about Giselle so that she wouldn’t do something to hurt you for her own purposes. And you are being such a giant dick to her! You need to apologise, Helena.”

 

And Claudia had actually refused to speak to her until she apologised to Myka. Which, it turned out, was easier said than done. Because exams were coming up and Helena’s time was extremely limited, and outside of work she had to look after Christina, because of course Giselle was now gone and out of their lives for good. She had planned to see Myka at the next Thursday night gig, but Myka didn’t turn up. And Helena didn’t have the courage to go and see her. So things had stayed in stasis between them for a few weeks until that Thursday night when they’d made up. And made love.

 

Helena was a little ashamed that she’d pushed Myka, that night, to admit why she hadn’t told Helena directly about Giselle’s neglect of Christina. But part of her still didn’t believe that Myka loved her.

 

_“Why do you think, Helena?”_

 

Those words, accompanied with the blaze of anger in Myka’s eyes, had completely undone Helena’s self-control. If Claudia hadn’t come in when she did, Helena wasn’t sure she would have been able to stop herself from dragging Myka into the bathroom and…well, doing exactly what she had done when they got to Myka’s flat, actually.

                                                                                                                 

She was ashamed that she hadn’t had the courage then to just take the plunge with Myka, because she wanted it more than anything. She held back because she was frightened that her own judgement was entirely unreliable. She’d lived with Giselle for nine years, after all, and hadn’t realised what kind of a bitch the woman really was. That didn’t excuse her hurting Myka, however. Because she knew that Myka was nothing like Giselle. But still she’d held back, frightened to make the move that would make this – them – a reality. She invited Myka for Christmas because Christina had plagued her until she did so. She’d steeled herself to resist Myka, to not do anything untoward. But when Myka turned up wearing that ridiculous jumper and her glasses, she’d given up virtually on the spot. She hadn’t pushed anything, of course. But she couldn’t resist Myka any more than it appeared Myka could resist her.

 

_“You know you’re being a complete idiot, don’t you?” Leena said, conversationally, as Helena appeared in her office at the end of the week during which Helena had berated Myka for not telling her about Giselle’s abandonment of Christina._

_“What?” Helena said, in complete confusion._

_“You were really nasty to Myka the other day, and she doesn’t deserve it. She was trying to be a good friend to you,” Leena said, her usually calm and contented face set._

_Helena sat down on the chair across the desk from the administrator._

_“I…she said she didn’t want to get involved. I can’t understand why…Christina really took to her, Leena. And she doesn’t want to get involved? I thought she was better than that,” Helena said, her eyes beginning to fill._

_Leena shot her a look of disgust._

_“And I thought you were **smarter** than that, Helena. Why do you think she didn’t want to tell you herself about Giselle? She wanted someone impartial to decide whether it was a good idea or not. She didn’t want to tell you something that she knew was likely to break you and Giselle up.”_

_Helena stared at her. She couldn’t be saying…_

_“Oh my God,” Leena breathed. “You - are you in love with Myka?” Her eyes were wide with concern and compassion._

_Helena stared, quite unable to speak for a long moment._

_“I…I don’t know,” she said, quietly. “I knew, that night, that I was going to have to think about whether I wanted to stay with Giselle. Because Myka…the way I felt…I knew it was too strong to just be friendship. I…”_

_Leena moved round the desk to hunker down in front of Helena and take her hands._

_“Myka didn’t decide not to tell you out of spite, or because things were too messy and she didn’t want to get involved with you and your daughter. She was trying to stay out of your relationship with Giselle, Helena. She did the right thing. She gave the information to someone who she knew would only tell you if it was in your best interests. Because Myka knew she had a vested interest in the outcome. You know what I’m saying, Helena. Don’t you?” Leena asked gently._

_Helena bit her lip, meeting Leena’s eyes. She nodded, and Leena smiled gently._

_“See? That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” she teased._

_“Perhaps not for you!” Helena retorted, wiping away tears. Leena chuckled._

_“So, tell me. What made you realise that you had feelings for Myka. Or rather, what made you realise how serious those feelings were?” Leena asked, standing and returning to her chair._

_“It was when I saw her with Christina,” Helena said thoughtfully. “She was just…so very caring, and genuinely interested in everything she had to say. She was wonderful with her. I think I…I hadn’t realised how little interest Giselle had in Christina, and when I saw Myka with her I saw everything that I was missing in my relationship with Giselle. I think Giselle had been away so often for the last year or so that I hadn’t noticed how much things had deteriorated, really. Seeing Myka with Christina just brought it home. And I couldn’t help but notice how much happier I was when Myka was around. That’s when it all hit home with me, I think. That I wasn’t happy, that Christina wasn’t happy, and that Myka made us both happy.”_

_Leena nodded._

_“She’s good for you, HG. She cares about you so much that she did this whole thing – telling Claudia instead of you – even though she knew you might be upset with her. She did it to protect you.” Her voice was very soft, but her eyes had a hint of rebuke in them._

_Helena concentrated very hard on her breathing for a moment, calming herself as she thought – really thought – about Myka, about what she meant to Helena. And something clicked in her, then. She knew that whatever happened, even if they could never be anything but friends to one another, she had to make things right with Myka. But at the same time she was frightened to make any move towards the American, because it would be all too easy to lose control, to fall into Myka and never look back. She had already been too impulsive where her love life was concerned. Her relationship with Giselle had started impulsively. Giselle had been a friend of theirs when Helena and Marcus were married, and in the aftermath of his horrific attack on her, Giselle had been there when Helena needed her. Which led to them kissing one night in Helena’s hospital room. Looking back at it now, she could see that Giselle was using her vulnerability to manipulate her. But back then, she had needed someone, and she had taken what Giselle was offering without looking at it too closely. She didn’t want to do that again, here. Even if she was fairly sure that Myka was a good person and nothing at all like Giselle, she had Christina to think about, and she couldn’t risk allowing another Giselle into her daughter’s life._

_“I know what you’re thinking, Helena,” Leena said softly, “but Myka is not Giselle. If you ask anyone, any of your friends to tell you honestly what they think of Giselle, you’ll find that not one of them has anything nice to say about her. But Myka? They all love her. If you can’t trust yourself, trust them. Trust us.”_

_Helena nodded and smiled, her heart suddenly lighter. And she proceeded to do just what Leena advised, in subtle queries to Claudia, to Arthur Nielsen, to Steve – even to Pete Lattimer and his new girlfriend Amanda. And she found that Leena was right. No-one had a good word to say about Giselle, other than that she was pretty, but everyone smiled when they thought of Myka, and everyone had a tale to tell about how she’d helped them with something or another. Even Claudia didn’t even have a word to say against Myka, which was a surprise to Helena, because her young friend had always seemed to have some sort of antipathy towards Myka. It became clear to Helena later when Claudia took her to task over her treatment of Myka that they’d reached something of an understanding, and that Claudia’s wariness of Myka had come from concern for Helena herself._

 

Helena fell asleep eventually after cuddling shamelessly with Myka, putting her head on Myka’s chest and listening to her heartbeat, letting it lull her to sleep. When she woke it was to the feeling of Myka’s fingers running through her hair.

 

“Good morning, Dr Wells,” Myka whispered.

 

“Good morning yourself, Ms Bering. What a pleasure it is to see you this morning,” Helena replied, grinning.

 

Myka leaned down to kiss her.

 

“Believe me, Dr Wells. The pleasure is all mine,” she said, in a husky voice.

 

She was wrong, of course. The pleasure was equally divided between them.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of the ladies' honeymoon period, a bit of plotty plot, and some of Myka's musings after they return to work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the length of time between updates. My mojo has been deserting me recently, and things aren't flowing very well. I will do my best to be more timely in future, but rest assured that I will always finish my fics, no matter how long it takes me. *clenches fists and vows before the gods*

* * *

 

Getting together during the holidays afforded Myka and Helena a short honeymoon period. They were able to spend time together alone and with Christina, and after a few days they fell into an oddly comfortable domesticity. Myka woke in the morning to the sound of Christina chattering away to her mother, and to the smell of coffee brewing. Helena, apparently, had gone shopping for decent coffee and a coffee machine the morning of their date, just in case she stayed over that night. So the first morning after they’d woken up together and made love, Myka fell asleep for a short time only to be woken by the smell of the most delicious coffee. She stumbled downstairs in a pair of borrowed pyjamas that made her look like Andre the Giant, as they only reached about halfway down her calves, and walked into the kitchen to see a smug Helena waiting for her with a cup of coffee that looked delicious.

 

“Good morning, beautiful,” Helena said, smiling.

 

“Did you make coffee just to wake me up?” Myka said, also smiling – after all, she’d just spent the night with Helena and fallen asleep in the afterglow of their most amazing sex yet.

 

“Not exactly,” Helena said with a smirk. “I was just undertaking an experiment. I wanted to see how long it would take you to wake up if I brewed some decent coffee for you.”

 

Myka grinned widely.

 

“And?”

 

Helena chuckled.

  
“Two minutes and 18 seconds,” she replied.

 

“That’s pretty impressive,” Myka said. “Have you ever conducted this experiment with anyone else?”

 

Helena shook her head.

 

“Given that I’ve only just bought this monstrosity,” she indicated a very fancy looking coffee machine with all sorts of appendages, “I can say with some confidence that you are my first guinea pig.”

 

“Did you buy that just for me, Helena?” Myka asked, slightly wide-eyed.

 

Helena blushed slightly.

 

“Well, you do love your coffee, and I thought…if you were going to be spending a little more time here, you might…”

 

She was cut off by Myka’s enthusiastic kiss.

 

“Thank you, Helena. That’s the sweetest thing, seriously.”

 

“Save your praise until you’ve tasted the coffee, darling.”

 

The first cup was pretty appalling, but after she’d spat out the pieces of coffee bean and set up the grinder properly by following the instructions (which Helena had put aside, deciding that she was more than capable of running a simple coffee machine without instruction, thank you very much), the second cup was pretty close to sublime. She took a cautious sip, and then several more, sighing as she savoured the taste. Helena smiled at her, and she leaned over to kiss her, first gently and then a little more seriously.

 

“Maybe I should buy more kitchen appliances for you, if that’s the response I’m going to get,” Helena said, after catching her breath.

 

“I think you know by now that there is no need for you to buy me anything, Helena. I’m incredibly easy, apparently, when it comes to you,” Myka said wryly.

 

“Is that right?” Helena asked, sauntering closer and pressing herself against Myka, careful not to disturb the coffee cup.

 

“You know it is, Helena,” Myka said, a little more seriously. Helena’s smile slipped a little.

 

“You know I would never hurt you, Myka,” Helena breathed, searching Myka’s eyes worriedly.

 

“Sure, not on purpose. But I hope you realise how much power you have over me, Wells,” Myka said, with a small smile.

 

“The same is true of you, Myka,” Helena protested.

 

“No, I don’t think it is,” Myka said.

 

Helena stepped back a little, running her fingers through her hair and turning with her back to Myka. She blew out a short breath.

 

“Do you think that I would risk Christina’s happiness by bringing you into our lives if I wasn’t serious, Myka?” she asked without turning.

 

Myka paused for a moment before speaking.

 

“No, of course. But I just meant…we aren’t in the same place, and I know that.”

 

Helena turned, her mouth slightly open.

 

“You really are bonkers, aren’t you? Again, I ask you. Do you _really_ think that I would risk Christina’s happiness? After Giselle? Because the answer is, of course, no. I wouldn’t risk her happiness unless I had very strong feelings for you, overwhelming feelings. And I recall trying to tell you that the other day, when you put your hand over my mouth to stop me. Do you remember?”

 

Myka looked at Helena, tilting her head slightly as she absorbed what Helena was saying.

 

“You said that you thought you might…that’s not the same as saying that you do. Love someone.”

 

“I…I’m not particularly good at communicating how I feel, Myka. And I didn’t want to say anything you weren’t comfortable with. But rest assured that whatever power I have over you, you hold over me, equally. I wouldn’t have moved forward with you if I weren’t sure of that.”

 

Myka nodded, taking a long drink from her mug in an attempt to cover the tears that were welling up in her eyes. When she looked up again, Helena was right there, tipping her head up so that Myka would meet her eyes.

 

“Maybe we’re not ready to say certain words to one another, just yet. But we’ve known each other a long time, Myka. I know you know me probably better than anyone, and I think the same is true the other way round. You don’t have to be insecure with me. I never want you to have to feel that way.”

 

Myka nodded again, and Helena leaned up to kiss her.

 

They enjoyed a quiet breakfast together of toast and fruit, and they had the luxury of sharing a shower together before Christina returned, Charles dropping her off around midday. Christina was ecstatic to see Myka and demanded her attention for much of the rest of the day. They watched television together, Helena looking on with a look of stunned happiness on her face, and they built some more Lego items together. They all had dinner together, Christina chatting animatedly throughout, and after a quick bath, Myka read to her from her new book. She barely got through a page before the little girl was asleep, making adorable snorting noises. She was wrapped around Myka’s arm, and once again Helena showed up at the door just as Myka was trying to extricate herself from the girl’s clutches.

 

“She’s such a minx,” Helena whispered, grinning, “just like her mother. She doesn’t want to let you go.”

 

Myka smiled, emotion welling up in her as she gazed down at the beautiful little girl.

 

“She’s amazing, Helena. You should be so proud,” she said, keeping her voice low.

 

“I am,” Helena said, her eyes glistening.

 

Myka finally managed to remove herself from Christina’s grasp, leaning over to kiss her forehead before creeping out of the room.

 

They made their way downstairs quietly, and Helena went to pour them some wine. She handed Myka a glass and sat next to her on the sofa, putting one arm around Myka’s shoulders to draw her close.

 

“Thank you, darling,” she said, seriously, before taking a sip of her drink.

 

“What for?” Myka asked.

 

“For being so good with Christina. For actually enjoying the time you spend with her. She can tell, and she already loves you for it.”

 

Myka reddened.

 

“I honestly don’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to spend time with her, Helena. She’s an amazing kid. She’s smart, she cracks me up, and she’s a mini-you. What’s not to love?”

 

“I would ask Giselle, but I seriously doubt we’ll be running into one another any time soon,” Helena said dryly.

 

“That woman was an idiot,” Myka said, trying and failing to keep the contempt from her tone. “She didn’t appreciate what she had right in front of her. You and Christina, you both deserve better than that.”

 

Helena smiled and leaned over, leaning her forehead against Myka’s.

 

“You are amazing, Myka,” she breathed.

 

“No I’m not. You and Christina are amazing. I don’t deserve you.”

 

“We’ll have to agree to disagree there, sweetheart,” Helena said, kissing her softly. She pulled Myka into her so that they were both half-reclined on the sofa, and they watched half of a movie together before agreeing that it was time for bed, when their yawns got out of hand. Ten minutes later they were wrapped around each other in bed, and the only sound to be heard in the Wells (and Bering) household was soft snoring.

 

***

 

A lot farther South, a tall man with a crooked nose was talking with a beautiful redhead. He was drinking beer, and she was sipping from a glass of expensive red wine.

 

“So, explain to me again why Helena still has my daughter?” he asked, as if continuing a conversation they’d had many times before. His accent was thick, East London. The redheaded woman pouted.

 

“It’s not as if I didn’t try. I called the police when I left the kid alone, told them I was a neighbour and that it happened all the time. The police were too busy,” Giselle Williams said, taking another sip from her glass.

 

“And you didn’t think to maybe do it again?” he asked, standing and pacing back and forth.

 

“I did. But that bitch Bering found out from the kid, and she told Helena. I followed your plan, Marcus,” Giselle said, almost snarling.

 

“If you’d followed my plan, then my daughter would be living with me by now,” Marcus said.

 

“And yet, here we are,” Giselle said, spreading her hands. “I did what you asked, Marcus. It’s not easy to betray someone when you’ve been living with them for such a long time.”

 

Marcus scoffed. “You didn’t give a shit about Helena. You liked her looks and her money, that’s about it. I know she’s good in the sack but that doesn’t mean she made you feel anything for her. We both know you aren’t capable of loving another human being.”

 

He didn’t notice the woman’s slight wince as he gesticulated grandly with the pint of beer in his hand.

 

“Well it doesn’t matter now, Marcus. Unless you can prove that she’s not fit to look after the girl, and you can prove that you are, then you’re out of luck. I’ve done my part, and I want my money.”

 

Giselle stood, facing off with him, and Marcus laughed.

 

“Fine, fine. You can have your money. But stay local, Giselle. I might need your ‘help’ again.”

 

He tapped at his phone and Giselle’s phone buzzed in her pocket, confirming the transaction. She left without a backward glance, and when she was outside the front door of Marcus’ new home, she shuddered. How she could ever have slept with a man like him, she would never know. And how she’d got herself in this mess, she would never know. She needed some help, and she had an idea who might be able to help.

 

She tapped out a quick text message to Claudia Donovan before hailing a cab on a busy London street.

 

“Where to, love?” the driver asked.

 

“Euston station,” she said, distractedly. She hoped that Joshua Donovan still kept up with his contacts in the Salford underworld.

 

***

 

It was their first day back at work, and Myka and Helena were struggling to maintain their usual professional relationship. There was plenty to do, as there always was at the beginning of a new semester, but Myka was finding it hard to focus. Helena popping into her office to ‘check’ on her every hour or so was _not_ helping.

 

It came to a head an hour before lunchtime. Myka was hangry, and to put it bluntly, horny, and Helena’s visits, which seemed to involve a lot more casual touching than usual, were not helping.

 

“Hello, darling,” Helena said, slipping into Myka’s office for the fourth time that morning, kissing the back of her neck and letting her teeth scrape gently against the tiny hairs there. Myka was suddenly furious, and before Helena could say another word, she found herself being walked backwards and then pinned against the closed door in Myka’s tiny office, with Myka’s hands firmly on her hips.

 

“I swear to god, Helena Wells, if you don’t stop fucking teasing me I will take you against this door here and now,” Myka growled, and the look of surprise (and arousal) on Helena’s face was comical. There was a moment of quiet and then Helena sighed out a breath that seemed like it came from her boots.

 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I have been teasing, and you have a lot of work to do – I should know, since I’m technically your boss. Can you ever forgive me?”

 

Her attempt at being contrite was slightly spoiled by the biting of her lip and the widening of her eyes and nostrils. Myka shook her head and loosened her hold.

 

“I will forgive you, but you had better make it up to me tonight, Dr Wells. And if you don’t want to do some unprofessional stuff in an office where either one of us could be discovered at any point, I suggest we set some ground rules,” Myka said, her eyes still slightly narrowed.

 

“Of course, darling,” Helena said. “I’m sorry.”

 

She did not look even a little bit sorry, but Myka let that pass for now.

 

“So. For now, Dr Wells, please remove your derrière from my office and let me get on with my work. And if you come back in here today without a cup of coffee at the very least, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

 

Myka smiled to lessen the bite that she knew was present in her words. Helena nodded, a little eagerly, backing away and leaving Myka to her work. They might work in the bedroom, and as friends, but it appeared that they still had some learning to do as to the other’s likes and dislikes as partners. Being distracted while working was not a thing that Myka enjoyed, and neither was being teased. She shook her head and smiled before tackling the lecture planning she had to get finished before the end of the day.

 

Helena did return at lunchtime, stopping only to drop off coffee, water, and food, and she gave Myka a brief kiss on the cheek before retreating. And it was a retreat, because she took one look at Myka’s expression and set the food on the desk, backing out with wide eyes. Myka chuckled and ate quickly before returning to work, and by the end of the day the matter was forgotten. But Helena was a little more careful at work from then on, and Myka started to feel a little better about the balance in their relationship. She had been serious when she told Helena that she was easy when it came to her, but she had begun to realise that their relationship couldn’t have any sort of longevity if she didn’t assert herself from time to time.

 

Myka did get her revenge later that night, indulging in a much-longer-than-usual teasing session that ended up with Helena biting a pillow in the darkness of her bedroom so that she didn’t wake Christina. A very self-satisfied Myka smiled in the dark afterwards, slightly frustrated herself since Helena had passed out without reciprocating, but pleased that she’d teased Helena into an almost-frenzy. She definitely deserved it after her behaviour that day.

 

***

 

It was Friday of the first week back, and Claudia had dropped in to Myka’s office. Her visits were rare and usually work-related. As she flopped into the spare chair in Myka’s office and threw a box onto the desk that smelled like some sort of baked sugary goodness, Myka figured that this was a very rare social visit.

 

“Hey Claud. Did you have a good New Year?” Myka asked, opening the box cautiously and removing a jam doughnut. Claudia pulled out the chocolate covered ring, stuffing it down her throat without much ceremony.

 

“Yeah. Josh and Abigail made dinner. It was good,” Claudia said, her eyes wandering around the tattered posters and noticeboards that adorned the office walls. It didn’t look the best, but Myka hadn’t ever really thought about decorating, because it wasn’t like she spent much time here in a typical week.

 

“And you?” Claudia asked, suddenly all piercing stares and unwavering attention. Myka took a deep breath.

 

“It was great, actually. Rebecca and Jack were amazing. They fed me so much I’m pretty sure I was close to some sort of coma,” Myka said with a smile.

 

“Those guys are great,” Claudia said. She had a genuine smile on her face.

 

“They are. I feel closer to them than I ever did to my own parents. I feel kind of guilty that they still want me around, even after Sam…” Myka trailed off, pushing her hair back from her face.

 

“I get that. But they love you, Myka. Nothing wrong with that,” Claudia said, her face clouding over. Myka knew that Claudia didn’t have any family other than Josh, and didn’t want to prod at that particular sore point any longer.

 

“They do. And it’s mutual. I’m lucky. But I guess you want to know what happened on Boxing Day, huh?” Myka asked, and Claudia nodded. “Well. I went to see them, and we had a nice day, good food, good company. And I read Christina a bedtime story, and when I got back down, Charles was gone.” She paused for a minute. “Did Helena not tell you all of this already?”

 

“I haven’t had much time to speak to her, actually. And I wanted to hear from you,” Claudia said, her face unreadable.

 

“Okay. Well, I… we ended up sleeping together that night. And I went home the next day, but before I left Helena asked me if I’d go out on a date with her,” Myka said, smiling involuntarily.

 

Claudia raised an eyebrow.

 

“And?”

 

“We went to Velvet, we went home together, and basically we’ve been together since,” Myka shrugged. “It’s kind of been a bit of a honeymoon-ish thing. And being around Christina this whole time… it’s like, my heart, you know?” Myka said, grinning, hands over her heart. Claudia barked out a laugh.

 

“Yeah. That kid is special. And I can’t attest to Dr Wells’ skill in the bedroom, but I’d imagine you two would create sparks, given how long you’ve been eye-banging,” Claudia said, smiling. “I’m glad things are going well. If you want to talk, I’m here. Helena can be a dumbass sometimes and I would hate for her to fuck this up.”

 

Myka was surprised. Majorly surprised. She still had the impression that Claudia didn’t much like her, and she was more than surprised that Claudia would ever be on her side, yet alone criticise Helena.

 

“See you later, Bering,” Claudia said, but as she left she seemed to have a fond smile on her face. Myka was warmed by it. She told Helena about (some of) the conversation later that night.

 

“She has never really seemed to care much for me, but she seemed like she was… concerned, for me? And happy for us, I guess? As much as Claudia is ever happy,” Myka said.

 

“I haven’t had a chance to really speak to her, except in passing. But I imagine she would be happy. She’s been silently judging my relationship with Giselle for years, I just didn’t realise,” Helena said wryly.

 

Myka smiled at her, and Christina came back from the bathroom just then, and they didn’t talk any more about Claudia that night. But it made Myka feel a little more secure, again, that she wasn’t just Helena’s girlfriend to Helena’s friends. She was a person in her own right, and she decided to assert herself more, to not allow herself to become less for Helena’s sake, because she wanted this relationship to be her last, if she was being entirely honest with herself about the whole thing.

 

Christina was continuing to be a joy, and she was becoming so attached to Myka that it was worrying her a little. Her intention was absolutely to become part of this family if that were at all possible. She loved Helena and cared deeply for Christina, but sometimes relationships didn’t work out. As an adult she knew that, but she was aware that kids didn’t always understand the intricacies of relationships and often ended up feeling that they were to blame. As Myka stroked the little girl’s hair, Christina lying with her head in Myka’s lap as they watched television, she sent up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that, no matter what happened, Christina wouldn’t suffer for Helena and Myka’s actions.

 

Later when they were in bed, Helena asked her why she looked so pensive, and Myka explained, briefly. Helena was silent for a long moment, but she turned to look at Myka and smiled.

 

“Regardless of what happens with us, Myka, you will always be a part of Christina’s life. And as I believe I already said to you, I would never have asked you on a date or gone forward with any of this without believing that this would work. I would never risk her, not if it was just a shag. Especially not after Giselle. I love that you care about her that much, Myka. But please, let me worry about my daughter, at least for now,” Helena said, speaking softly and with such love in her voice that Myka’s chest clenched and then released, some of the worry and strain melting away. After all, if Helena believed in them this much, then there was really no reason for Myka to twist herself in knots. Part of her remained vigilant, however, because she was unwilling to break a child’s heart for the sake of her own happiness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena and Myka get to know each other a little better, and they go on holiday with Christina

* * *

 

They were fully back in the swing of the semester, and that meant the Caretakers were back in session on Thursdays. Myka had offered to babysit for Christina, but Helena had asked her to come and be there for the first performance of the year.

 

“As my girlfriend, I should clarify. Or something less… teenage-y,” Helena had said, nose twitching with distaste.

 

“Girlfriend is just fine, Helena. For now,” Myka had replied, with a tiny smirk.

 

So here she was with a pint of bitter and the company of Joshua and Abigail as they watched the rest of the gang get ready for their gig.

 

“So who is looking after Christina, now that frosty fanny’s gone?” Abigail asked. Myka snorted so hard that some of her beer went up her nose.

 

“I am gonna assume that you mean Giselle? And it’s Charles who’s looking after Christina; he’s the only one Helena will trust, now,” Myka said, once she’d recovered. Her eyes wandered to Helena, who was wearing the most ridiculously tight blue jeans and a white shirt with a waistcoat. She looked every inch the 90’s lesbian icon, and she was unashamed. She shot Myka a wink, and Myka smirked at her, trying not to lick her lips.

 

“She trusts you,” Abigail pointed out.

 

“That’s… different,” Myka said, distracted.

 

“Is it?” Abigail asked, nudging Joshua, who rolled his eyes.

 

“I think what my subtle girlfriend is trying to ask, Myka, is whether you and Dr Wells are an item yet, or whether you’re just bumping uglies,” Joshua said.

 

Abigail punched him on the arm.

 

“And there was me thinking that it was Claudia who had the foul mouth in your family,” Myka said, raising an eyebrow. “Bumping uglies? Really?”

 

Abigail snickered at that, and then pinned Myka with her gaze.

 

“Out with it, then. Banging or U-Hauling, which is it?” she asked.

 

“Um… neither? I don’t think? Do you guys even have U-Haul here?” Myka asked, mystified. “We’re together, okay? In what capacity, I guess we’re still working out. But she did call me her girlfriend, so it’s not a one-time thing. Is that what you wanted to know?”

 

“Well, yes,” Abigail asked, but she looked a little disappointed.

 

“What else do you need to know?” Myka asked, shaking her head. Abigail was way, way too much.

 

“Is she as incredible in bed as she looks like she will be? Because I look at that,” Abigail indicated Helena studiously warming up with headphones in, and it was true that she looked as hot as sin, “and I just think… she has got to be wild. Like, seriously filthy. So?”

 

Myka’s cheeks were blazing, and her mouth was open.

 

“Do you really, really think I’m gonna answer that, Abigail? Because I’m so not even dignifying that with a response,” Myka said, finishing her pint quickly, and standing up. She leaned over to Abigail, though, and whispered in her ear. “Whatever you’re thinking, double it. She’s amazing.”

 

She strode off to the bar, and only looked back once she’d ordered her drink, laughing when she saw that Abigail was blushing and staring up at Helena in awe.

 

***

 

Family time was a precious addition to Myka’s life. She’d never enjoyed being with her own family and was just discovering what it could feel like when a person was in the company of people who loved them and didn’t judge them. It was sweet and uncomplicated. They all wanted to spend time together, and so they did. They watched television or played simple video games or built Lego figures – whatever Christina’s particular obsession was that day – and then when it was time for her to sleep, one or other of them read to her until she dozed off.

 

“She’s so amazing, Helena,” Myka said, one evening when Helena came down from reading to Christina.

 

“She is. I’m just so glad that she has someone like you around; someone who really sees her for the marvel she is,” Helena said, and the look in her eyes made Myka’s eyes fill.

 

“She has you for that,” Myka murmured, as Helena leaned down to kiss her.

 

“She does. But it’s nice when she has someone else around who knows it, too. I hate to think what Giselle’s lack of interest has done to her self-esteem,” Helena said, every bit the worried mother.

 

“She has you,” Myka gently repeated. “No matter how Giselle made her feel, she has always had you here, loving her and telling her that she can take on the world. And believe me when I say that I think she will, just as soon as she is tall enough to see over the dashboard of a car. She is a great kid, Helena, and she will be fine. One day she will have forgotten all about Giselle, but she’ll always have you.”

 

“Thank you, love,” Helena said, leaning a little to kiss Myka again. “I am so glad you’re here.”

 

“Me too,” Myka said, before returning to the kissing, which was one of the best things about being with Helena Wells. She was a superb kisser, and she’d spent time learning exactly what Myka liked and what she didn’t, unlike most of the dudes Myka had kissed in her life. They tended to stick their tongue in there like they were trying to unclog a drain, but Helena was subtle and sweet and hot, kissing and licking and biting in exactly the places she knew would make Myka hot and bothered.

“I love every minute that I spent with you, Myka Bering,” Helena murmured, as she kissed her way down Myka’s neck.

 

“The feeling is… mutual,” Myka managed, though her breath was not coming easily, with Helena touching her that way.

 

“You should move in,” Helena said.

 

Myka was pretty sure she could hear the Ally McBeal record scratch echoing in her head. She pulled back a little, staring.

 

“Are you serious?” she asked, looking at Helena incredulously.

 

“Why not?” Helena asked, looking a little defensive. “Christina loves you, and I love you. Why wouldn’t you want to move in?”

 

“I would. I do. That’s the problem, Helena. We only just started seeing each other, really. I’m all in, you don’t have to worry about that, but I just want to make sure we’re all ready before we take a step like that. We haven’t even told our colleagues about us yet, aside from Abigail. I don’t think it’s a good idea, Hel,” she said, apologetically, as Helena moved away, blowing her hair away from her face. She looked frustrated.

 

“I… I’m sorry, darling. Of course you’re right; it is far too early. I just… each time you come here things are so good. Christina loves you, and I mean what I say, Myka. I love you. I don’t want you to live somewhere else. I want you here, with me, in my bed. I can’t really bring myself to care about what we should or shouldn’t do,” Helena said, sighing.

 

“Helena. It’s tempting. It’s too tempting, really. I would live with you and Christina in a heartbeat. But I think we all need time to adjust to this, to our new reality, before we take that kind of a step. We’re still in the honeymoon period, and everything is new and so, so exciting. We still need to get to know one another. So please don’t be upset, okay? It’s not a rejection, it’s a… let’s put a pin in it, and come back to it. Things are good now, and I know you told me not to, but I want to make sure that I don’t hurt Christina. She deserves the best from both of us, and I just… I think it’s too early.”

 

Helena nodded, and though she still looked a little sad, she was also beginning to smile.

 

“You’re something else, Myka Bering. You’re so level-headed, and you care about Christina so much. It’s… incredible.”

 

They kissed again, and then again, and soon enough they were making love on the sofa, one ear trained on the stairs to make sure they weren’t interrupted by Christina. Later, though, when Helena was asleep, Myka brooded. She did want to move in, and part of her was yelling that she should do it as soon as possible. But the other part was wary. She wanted Christina’s childhood to be better than hers, better than long silences and glares and the constant feeling of walking on eggshells. She wanted her relationship to be stronger than this new, fragile, untested thing that they had between them before they took the next step.

 

She drifted off eventually, but she didn’t regret saying no to Helena. It was the right thing to do for all of them, Christina especially. She held on to that thought, using it to strengthen her resolve when she weakened.

 

***

 

It was getting towards half-term for Christina, and there was a break coming up for Easter, so they made a plan to get away for a while, trying out their first holiday as a family. It had been several months and things were still good between them, with only a few arguments and the odd difficult conversation between them. When Myka was overwhelmed by things, she tended to withdraw, and it only took one occasion for Helena to realise how much Myka needed her space. Myka had had a difficult week at work, one of her students having left the course in really shitty circumstances, and she was overwhelmed and upset. She told Helena she wanted the night to herself, and Helena had initially agreed, but a little later she’d texted a few pictures of her and Christina sitting together watching Dr Who, inviting Myka to join them. Myka frowned, a glass of Scotch in her free hand. She loved both of them, but what part of “I want to be alone,” didn’t Helena get?

 

She texted back a terse refusal, not even regretting it, and a few minutes later Helena called her. She swore under her breath before answering.

 

“Sweetheart, why would you reply like that? It was only an invitation. I thought you might feel better if you were with us both, that’s all.”

 

“Helena, I told you, I needed a night to myself. It’s nothing to do with you, you are fully aware of what happened this week with Charlotte,” Myka said, in a controlled voice.

 

Helena continued to talk, and Myka probably responded, but after a while she couldn’t, anymore. She cried quietly, trying not to let the full-throated sobs out, her abdomen shuddering with the effort of holding it in.

 

“Jesus, Myka. Are you crying?” Helena asked, in a hushed voice. It was rare for Myka to cry; she viewed it as weakness, and Helena knew that.

 

“No,” Myka said, stubbornly. Sure, she cried sometimes; she’d cried over Helena. But she tried never to do it in front of others, it only made her feel worse.

 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’ll leave you alone. Just… if you need us, we’re here. Call me when you are up to company, love.”

 

Helena hung up after Myka’s whispered, “goodbye” and from then on, if Myka said she needed time to herself, she got it.

 

The same went for Helena. She was generally quite sunny and enthusiastic, but when overly tired or worried, she was snappy and cold. She didn’t withdraw the way Myka did – Myka almost wished she did; that would be easier to deal with. Tired/worried Helena was a bit of a bitch, truth be told, and Myka told her so after Helena brought up her parents during an argument.

 

They decided to give each other a little space after that argument, and when they spoke about it later, Helena agreed to take a little time to think before speaking when she was in that sort of a mood, because a badly-timed comment could be all it took to break them, if she wasn’t careful. What she’d said about Myka’s parents could have done it, if Myka hadn’t been understanding about it all.

 

Their holiday was looming, and they’d decided to hang the expense and go to Disneyland. Myka had never been, despite growing up in the States, and Christina was dying to go.

 

Myka happened to mention the trip to her sister in an email, and all of a sudden it turned into a family get-together the likes of which she never would have anticipated.  Tracy, her sister, had a baby daughter who Myka hadn’t met yet, and she and her husband had decided that they should bring the infant to Disneyland. It didn’t sound like fun to Myka, but then the kid – Jessica – wasn’t hers, so it wasn’t her business. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing her parents again, though.

 

“We can pretend that Christina is ill if you want, darling,” Helena said, when Myka got off the phone with Tracy. “We’ll get some of the money back, at least.”

 

“I don’t want Christina to miss out because of my stupid issues, Helena,” Myka said, moodily. “It’s not fair on her. We promised her a week in Disneyland, and the last thing I want to do is disappoint her.

 

“You are such a sweetheart, do you know that?” Helena asked, pulling Myka down into her lap, where the height difference meant that she had to strain to kiss Myka. But she managed it, grinning triumphantly. “We’ll get through this. They can’t be _that_ awful, surely?”

 

Myka smiled at her, but she was pretty sure it looked like a horrible grimace. Her parents _were_ that bad; always had been. But then maybe they’d be a bit politer to someone like Helena, with her upper-class English accent and obvious wealth. They’d always worried a lot about appearances, so maybe that would stop them from being complete assholes.

 

“If they say a thing to hurt Christina, I swear to God I will kill them,” Myka said, as she thought through the possibilities.

 

“You won’t have to. If anyone’s going to murder them, I’ll be the one holding the gun. But you are hot when you get all… mama bear like that,” Helena teased, biting Myka’s bottom lip. Myka glared at her.

 

“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to make jokes so I won’t worry,” she said flatly.

 

“Yes, I am. Is it working?” Helena asked.

 

Myka sighed.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good,” Helena said, before tipping Myka onto her back on the sofa, legs akimbo. Christina came in a minute later and jumped on top, causing a squealing mess that ended up with all three of them on the floor in a tickle-fight to the death.

 

The trip to Florida took far too long, leading to an irritable pair of Wells ladies. Myka, who’d slept fairly serenely through their flights and various transfers, was feeling okay, but Christina was tired and whining, and Helena was ready to murder someone. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for them to check in to their hotel, and to Myka’s relief, both of the Wellses were asleep within half an hour, having showered and changed before collapsing on their beds. Myka was awake and ready to explore, so she called Tracy and went to meet her at a nearby coffee shop. Her parents weren’t due until the following day.

 

They hugged for ages, not having seen one another for over a year, and Myka marvelled at the little being that Tracy had actually created inside of her body. It was crazy to think of Christina ever being that small, and she said so.

 

Tracy looked at her fondly.

 

“Look at you, Bering, with that look on your face. You’re a mom now,” she teased, and Myka blushed a little.

 

“I love that kid, like, so much,” she said, chuckling a little. “It’s crazy; she’s not even mine but she just wormed her way into my heart and I couldn’t love her more,” she said, fondly.

 

“I never imagined how it would feel,” Tracy said, staring down at little Jess, her face red and wrinkled. “She changed everything. Some days I just stare at her, and I am just so… happy.”

 

Myka smiled at her sister, delighted to see her so joyful. She looked different, less drawn, less severe. Myka had always worried that Tracy would turn out to be one of those loveless executive types that was married to a job and laughed at the idea of love. She was really glad Tracy had turned out like this, instead. She softer, sweeter, and Myka was glad to see _her_ at least.

 

They talked for a while about Helena and Christina and Kevin and Jessica, and then the subject of their parents came up.

 

“Do you think they’ll be, you know, pleasant?” Myka asked.

 

Tracy raised an eyebrow.

 

“Do you?”

 

Myka sighed.

 

“Then why? Why are they coming here?” Myka asked.

 

“Honestly? I don’t know. Kevin and I were talking about it, and he thinks dad wants to try to persuade you to come home and take over the bookshop. But look, Myka. If they say anything to make Helena or Christina uncomfortable, you have my blessing to just get the hell out of there. We can meet like this again before you go, right?” Tracy said.

 

“Sure,” Myka said, shaking her head. Her father never ceased to amaze her. Why would he try to convince her to come back to Colorado when she was so happy with Helena, with Christina, with her job (most of the time)? What good did he think it was going to do?

 

Her parents had never been homophobic as such, but it was understood that they would prefer their bisexual daughter to date a guy and not a girl. Myka had always shrugged it off; she fell in love with the person, and that had always been how it was for her. Her parents’ outdated attitudes couldn’t change that. Marrying Sam hadn’t been to appease them; she’d just fallen in love. And now she was in love again, and that was that, as far as she was concerned. If her parents were rude to Christina, she would leave, and that would be that. Life was too short to live it for other people.

 

Myka and Tracy talked of more pleasant things for a while, and then parted ways with a hug. Myka headed back to the hotel to find her girls stirring. She ordered up some room service, deciding that Helena and Christina would both probably pass out again as soon as they ate. As for Myka, she was going to try to stay up for a while and try to beat the jetlag.

 

Helena’s hair was wild, her face criss-crossed with red marks from the pillow, and her eyes crusty with sleep. She still looked beautiful to Myka, more beautiful than anyone she’d ever met, and regardless of whether she was wearing a ballgown or covered from head to toe in mud, she was stunning to Myka.

 

“Good morning, love,” Helena said, giving Myka a peck on the cheek. “Or whatever. Where have you been?”

 

“I went to visit with Tracy, and I met my niece. She’s so squishy, Helena. I couldn’t believe that she came out of my sister, you know?” Myka said, with a wide smile.

 

“They’re incredible,” Helena said, looking off into the distance. “I will never stop being grateful for Christina.”

 

“Me either,” Myka said, hugging the girl to her when she walked out of her bedroom towards them. “You ready for some food, kiddo?”

 

“Yes,” Christina said, with the air of someone who is having an unfair burden placed on her. “Why did I have to get up?”

 

“You’ll feel a lot worse if you don’t,” Helena warned, and Christina pouted.

 

They ate quickly and fairly quietly, the meal punctuated with yawns from all three of them. The travelling was catching up with Myka, but she was determined to try and stay awake until a decent hour, so she could get used to the different time zone as quickly as possible.

 

Christina went back to bed almost immediately, despite her mother warning her that she might feel ill as a result. But it did afford them an opportunity to talk.

 

“You looked a bit concerned when you came back from seeing Tracy. Did something happen?” Helena asked, wrapping her arms around Myka and pulling her close.

 

“Nothing happened with Tracy. She’s actually a lot nicer than I remember. But she did say that she thinks my dad might have come here to try and convince me to take on the bookstore.”

 

Helena frowned.

 

“I know that you and I don’t know everything about each other, but that’s not something you remotely want, is it? I mean, I know you love books, but you’ve never shown any interest in leaving the teaching profession,” Helena said, looking at Myka with those dark, piercing eyes. The way she looked in that moment – focused, beautiful, a little angry, almost – it caught at Myka, somehow, and she ended up staring for a long moment, forgetting what they were talking about.

 

“Darling, are you okay?” Helena asked, eyebrow rising.

 

“Yeah, sorry,” Myka said, blushing a little. “I have no interest in taking over the store. Not only is it likely to be in the red, because my dad is so traditional that he refuses to stock most popular fiction, but it’s the place where I spent most of my childhood, and I did not enjoy my childhood. Not even a little bit. So, no thank you to that,” Myka said, shaking her head.

 

“And how is he likely to respond to that?” Helena asked.

 

“Not well. He doesn’t like it when people don’t do what he wants, and he especially doesn’t like it when it’s me. I don’t know why, so don’t ask me, seriously. But he hated it when I talked back to him or refused to do something. Like, so mad that it wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d had a stroke,” Myka said, sighing.

 

“Maybe you should have said ‘no’ a bit more often,” Helena muttered darkly.

 

Myka chuckled.

 

“You don’t like my dad much, do you?” she teased.

 

“Do you?” Helena countered, and Myka sobered. No, of course, was the answer. Warren Bering was a nightmare, his horrible behaviour backed up by Myka’s mother Jean, who pretty much had to be part of the invertebrate family. She could no more stand up to Warren than she could take off and fly like Supergirl.

 

“Anyway, Tracy and I talked, and if he says a single thing that makes you or Christina uncomfortable, we’re leaving, okay? We’ll meet with Tracy another time. But you just give me the signal and we’re out of there,” Myka said.

 

“Okay, darling. Don’t worry. I’m sure I can hold my own if needs be, but as you say, if he says a word to Christina we shall leave them to enjoy their own private bell jars. We are happy and that is all that matters.”

 

Helena was looking at her intently, and though she was clearly tired, there was a slight quirk to her mouth that indicated that she might be in the mood for a little fun. Myka smiled, leaning forward to kiss the corner of her mouth, lingering for a second to breathe Helena in.

 

“You make everything better, Helena Wells,” she murmured, and then Helena was kissing her, and not long after that Myka was entirely incapable of speech, because Helena hoisted her onto the small correspondence desk that some hotels seem to think are still used, and the combined efforts of her tongue and fingers made Myka completely incoherent for almost ten minutes afterwards.

 

It was a better way to combat the jetlag, it turned out, than just staying up watching television alone. A _much_ better way.  


End file.
